


Where Magic Is Void

by DontJudgeMeIShipIt



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5989257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontJudgeMeIShipIt/pseuds/DontJudgeMeIShipIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cami is a single mother, living in a small, Maine island town when a stranger shows up and brings her world crashing down around her. Everything she thought she knew has been a lie.  In reality, Klaus is no stranger--he knows Cami is in for quite a shock when he removes the compulsion she's been under for the past three and a half years, but what he doesn't know...what he is about to find out...is that Cami has a little surprise of her own.</p>
<p>**This work was originally posted under the username "hipsbeforehands", however, someone registered that username here, so I cannot use it for this archive...but I assure you, it's me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Brave Bartender

_“I need you to protect the most important thing in my life._

_I need you to do it here, where magic is void.”_

**Chapter 1:  The Brave Bartender**

Cami woke with a start, her heart pounding.  Something had pulled her from a deep sleep.  She didn’t know what it was, but she could feel the vibration of it lingering in the air. 

Almost as if she wasn’t alone.

“Mommy?”

She jumped at the sound of the soft voice near the foot of her bed. 

Of course she wasn’t alone. 

Sitting up, she turned on the bedside lamp and squinted her eyes at the small girl who stood clinging to the corner of the bedspread. 

“What is it, baby?” she asked, tiredly, but with the type of patience only a mother can find at 3AM on a week night.

“I saw a monster,” said the little girl, her eyes wide and solemn.

“In your room?” the young mother guessed.

“No,” the child replied.  “In yours.”

Cami shivered, recalling the feeling that had come over her upon waking.  She tossed the covers back, and reached out her arms, scooping up the tiny blonde girl.

“There’s nothing to be scared of, baby.  See?” she asked, gesturing around the empty room.  “There’s no one here but us, ok?”

The girl nodded, but seemed doubtful.

“Do you want to sleep with me for the rest of the night?”

The girl smiled, her eyes shining adoringly up at her mother, and nodded again.

“Okay, just for tonight,” Cami acquiesced, switching the lamp off and plunging the room back into darkness.

“What about Nik?” the girl whispered.

“Nik will be fine, love,” she promised, hugging the girl to her, fondly.

“Besides, there’s no such thing as monsters.  Right, Hope?”

“Right, Mama,” Hope sighed, already beginning to drift back to sleep.

~-~

Cami woke early the next morning to the feel of a tiny foot smacking her in the face; its little pink toes catching in her long, blonde hair.

“Ah!” she hissed, gently untangling the mess and placing the foot back on her pillow.  She sat up and smiled to herself at the picture before her.  At some point in the wee hours, their party of two had become a party of three, and now her daughter and son lay snuggled together amidst the down comforter and pillows, both of them upside down in the bed and sleeping peacefully.

A familiar sense of loneliness and sadness washed over her as she worried the gold band on the third finger of her left hand.  Sighing, Cami stood and stretched, groaning softly as her muscles protested the movement.

She needed a hot shower.  And coffee.  Lots and lots of coffee.

~-~

Hours later Cami stood behind the bar at The Halfway House, pouring drinks for fisherman too frozen to make it home without a little liquid fire in their system.  It was winter in Maine.  This time of year, only the locals braved the two-hour ferry ride over rough seas required to make it to Durnigan Island.  There were only one-hundred and fifty residents in Kavanaugh, the only town on the island, and Cami was pretty sure she’d served them all at some point.  At least the ones that were of drinking age.

Which is why she stopped short at the sight of a man she didn’t recognize entering the bar.

“Hey, Cami-girl!  Watch where you’re pouring.  You’re wastin’ the good stuff!” huffed Joe, her favorite, and most regular, patron. 

She apologized as she watched the elderly man dab at the whiskey she’d just sloshed onto the back of his weathered hand. 

“No harm done.”  He followed her eyes across the bar and raised his brows in surprise when he noticed the new visitor.  “Well, look what the sea dragged in.”  His brow furrowed in concern.  “I was about to head home, but do you want me to stay a bit longer?”

Cami looked around, noting that the last of her customers, save for Joe and the stranger, had just ambled out the front door.  She felt a little uneasy, but it was a small, quiet town, and she saw no reason to keep Joe from his warm bed any longer than necessary.  Besides, the sooner she closed up, the sooner she could make it home to her babies.  “No, Joe.  Thank you though.  I’ll be fine.  I’m just going to get this guy his drink and then close it up for the night.  You head on home.”

He hesitated, but knew Cami well enough to know she could take care of herself.  They were a pretty self-sufficient lot; the ones chose to live on this island out in the middle of nowhere.  “Ok,” he nodded.  “See ya tomorrow, Cami-girl.”

“See ya tomorrow, Joe.”

She watched as he headed to the door, donning his coat and hat as he went.  As Joe slipped outside, the stranger made his way to the bar, sitting a couple of spaces down from where she stood.

Just as she was about to ask what he wanted to drink, he looked up at her, and her words froze on her tongue.  He looked at her tenderly, a soft smile playing around his full lips.

Their eyes caught and held.

“Hello, Camille.  It’s been a long time,” came his soft, lilting accent. 

His pupils dilated and constricted, pulling her own into a strange dance that caused her eyes to tear.

“I do hope you’ll remember me,” he said, meaningfully.

And just like that Camille O’Connell was staring into the familiar face of Niklaus Mikaelson, all of their complicated history suddenly clicking into place.

And suddenly fear, cold and shocking washed over her.

“You’re here for Hope aren’t you?”


	2. Revelations

 

 

“You compelled me?” she gasped, accusingly.  “How could you, Klaus?  How _could_ _you_?”  She came around the bar, planting herself squarely in front of him. 

“In my defense, you consented to being compelled,” he defended.

She struggled to make sense of what he was saying.  She did remember agreeing to be compelled for a short time in order to keep Hope safe.  But it’d been _years._   How could he come for her now…after so long?  How could he do that to her?  To Hope?

“You’re here for her aren’t you?” she asked, repeating her question from before.  “Aren’t you?” she demanded.

“Yes, Camille.  I am,” he replied, softly. 

There may have been regret in the words, but Cami couldn’t hear it over the roaring panic rising inside her as she contemplated life without her daughter.

_No, not her daughter._

Her eyes filled with tears at the thought. She felt dizzy and sick.  She couldn’t catch her breath. 

She remembered being compelled, but she also remembered being Hope’s mother.  Those memories, those emotions, were real.

“You can’t just take her from me, Klaus!” she cried, nearly begging.  “You compelled me to believe she was mine, and I’ve spent the last three-and-a-half years loving her like she is.”  Her words were pleading.  Her eyes begged him to understand her sense of loss, to be compassionate.  “Please…” she sobbed.

“I don’t want to take her from you, Camille,” he assured, taking her face in his hands and brushing the tears from her cheeks.  “I came for the both of you.”

She closed her eyes in relief at his words, sending more tears cascading over her cheeks and Klaus’s hands where they remained pressed against her skin.  Her mind raced, remembering the past as she’d believed it to be as well as how it had actually been.  It was overwhelming, and she grappled with the juxtapositions.  Hope wasn’t hers, but she had raised her.  Cami was the only mother the child knew, but she also had a mother somewhere else.  Hayley was out there somewhere, missing her daughter. 

Cami’s heart broke for all of them. 

She had lived the past three-a-half years with her time in New Orleans wiped from her mind.  She’d believed, with Klaus’s help, that she was a young woman whose husband had died, leaving her alone with a small child and another on the way…

She froze, her eyes flying to his.

Except that last part hadn’t been compulsion.

She played back his words from that day so long ago. 

_You will forget all about your time in New Orleans.  You will remember only that you have a beautiful daughter, whom you love, and that you loved her father, but he died, leaving you to care for her.  You will start over somewhere new, somewhere far away from here.  And you will be happy.  Now take Hope and go._

She’d been in Maine before she’d realized she was pregnant.  She’d been compelled, and she’d just believed that her son belonged to Hope’s father.

To Klaus.

Could he really be to blame for the fact that when he compelled her to mourn a husband…a father to her child…that it was his face her mind had supplied?  She supposed not, but the fact remained that she did blame him.  He hadn’t compelled her to forget him, specifically.  In fact, he’d compelled her to remember that she’d loved Hope’s father.  And _he_ was Hope’s father. 

But now that the compulsion was lifted she was faced with the reality of her pregnancy for the first time.  And the reality was, she didn’t know who her son’s father was.  Or if she did, she had no idea how it was possible.

She paled.

“Camille?” he asked, concerned with her sudden quiet and pallor. 

“Cami?” he shook her gently, trying to get her eyes to focus on his.  He didn’t like the glazed quality they’d taken on.

“I have a son,” she mumbled, numbly.

“Sorry?” he questioned, thinking he’d misheard.

“I have a son,” she repeated, her eyes finally finding his through her haze of confusion.

He dropped his hands from her as if he’d been burned and took a step back.

“My, you do land on your feet, don’t you, Camille?” he spat, acidly.  He was already picturing her in someone else’s arms.  Growing round with someone else’s child.  “And Hope’s poor father barely cold in his grave,” he tsk-ed, coldly.

“Shut up!” she yelled, closing the distance between them only to shove him away from her.  Her eyes watered and her chest hurt with the effort it took not to collapse into great wracking sobs.

“I don’t know how this happened…” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Oh, love…I’m quite certain you know exactly _how_ it happened.”

She ignored his jab, focusing instead on making sense of it all.

“I don’t _know_ , Klaus!  I--,”she searched her brain, trying to piece it all together.  “I must’ve already been pregnant when you compelled me.  I just didn’t know it yet.  And when I realized I was pregnant, I was under the compulsion…I believed my son and Hope shared the same father…”  Her eyes filled with more tears as the reality of her current situation dawned on her.  These last three years, she’d believed Klaus to be the father of both of her children, only to discover the truth—one child wasn’t hers…and the other most likely wasn’t his. 

 “I don’t know who his father is, Klaus.  I…I don’t know.  There was only you.  I know it isn’t possible, but…”

“No, it isn’t possible, Camille,” he sneered, hurt and anger at her obvious betrayal causing him to lash out.  The part of him that cared for her should have been happy that she’d been allowed the chance to experience motherhood, something his sister still missed, bitterly; but the selfish part of him, the overwhelming majority, was livid that she’d found someone else…and devastated that that someone else had given her the one thing he never could.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, brokenly.  She was so confused.  She’d only been with Klaus.  There’d been no other man in all those months since Marcel.  And then that night, before she’d agreed to be compelled, she and Klaus had acknowledged their feelings and said their goodbyes in the only way they could.  There had been no one else, before or since.  But he couldn’t… _they_ couldn’t have created a child.  It wasn’t possible.

Oh, God.  Had something happened to her?  Had someone drugged her?  Had the compulsion damaged her brain somehow?

She pictured her son as he’d been this morning.  Her sweet boy.  His blonde curls and rosy cheeks.  His chubby baby hands clinging to Hope’s arm in his sleep. 

Her heart ached.

Her baby….her poor, poor baby. 

_Bastard_ was such an ugly word.

Seeming to read her thoughts, Klaus poured salt in her open wound.  “Even my dreadful mother knew who fathered her bast--”

He never finished the nasty thought.  She slapped him.  Hard.

“Go to hell, you sonofabitch!” she yelled at him, tears streaming down her pale face, unchecked.

He regretted his words immediately and was uncharacteristically contrite, but it was too late.  He could see it in her face.  He felt it deep in his bones. 

In his anger and hurt, he’d broken something priceless.

“Cami, I--” he tried, but she was already on her way out the door.

“Stay away from me,” she warned, fiercely.  “Stay away from me, and stay away from my children.  Both of them.  I mean it, Klaus.”  With that, she walked out of the bar, slamming the door behind her. 

The lights were on and the door was unlocked, but the place that had meant so much to her just this morning, that had represented a fresh start, now meant next to nothing. 

It had all been a lie.

As she rounded the corner of the bar and headed toward what used to be home, she finally let the wracking sobs overtake her.


	3. The Remorseful Monster

 

 

Cami twisted the ring on her finger roughly, struggling to remove it as quickly as possible.  It mocked her, practically burning her skin with its falseness.  The marriage she’d mourned had been a lie.  The husband…

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as the ring slipped off her finger and tumbled to the carpet at her bare feet.

She swallowed thickly and swiped at her still running nose.

Where her mind had been racing before, struggling to adjust to the new information she’d received tonight, it now moved slowly, sluggishly…examining each piece of the puzzle determinedly. 

The kids were asleep down the hall and the house was uncharacteristically silent, allowing her time to breathe and contemplate her next move.  Devastated by the truth though she may be, the fact remained that Hope _was_ Klaus and Hayley’s daughter, not hers.  She couldn’t keep them from the child.  Their supernatural strength aside, she couldn’t, in good conscience, do that to any of them, including Hope.  But the fact also remained that, in Hope’s eyes at least, Cami was her mother, and Cami would be damned if she’d let anyone, including Niklaus Mikaelson, hurt that sweet girl. 

In Cami’s heart, Hope would always be her daughter…and she would never abandon her. 

She would not abandon her…and she would not keep Klaus from her, which meant that at some point she would have to deal with him. 

She hated him at this moment. 

How could he say such a horrible thing about her son?  Even if Nik wasn’t his, he was an innocent child…and he was Cami’s child, didn’t _that_ mean anything to him?  She’d thought Klaus cared about her…at least a little.  The night they’d said goodbye, it had definitely seemed like he cared a great deal.  No lengthy discussions were had, no professions of love had been made, but she’d felt more loved than she ever had in her entire life in those moments with him.  And now it was as if they were back to square one…he playing the role of monster, she merely the brave bartender.

_I should keep Hope as far away from him as possible_ , she thought, spitefully, _just to spare her the pain that loving him will undoubtedly cause her_.

She ignored the part of her that knew instinctively he would never hurt his child, and chose instead to focus on her anger.

What about her son?  Her sweet, Dominik?  The more she thought about it now, outside of the heat of the moment and the shock of learning the truth, the more sure she was that he was Klaus’s child.  She had no idea how it was possible, and she doubted Klaus would ever believe her, but she _knew_ there had been no one else in her life in that way.  Now, with all of her memories fully intact, she could remember the details of her and Klaus’s brief time together.  It had been incredibly powerful, to be sure, but powerful enough to break the laws of nature?  Of science?  Of even magic? 

She doubted that. 

And yet somehow…

Glancing at the framed photo on her bedside table, she studied her son’s countenance; his blonde curls and full, pouty lips, his twinkling eyes that always seemed to have an amusing secret hidden in their depths. 

Did he look like Klaus…or was that just what her heart wanted her to see?

She looked away.

Her head hurt from crying. 

Her heart hurt from loving someone who could easily devastate her world on a whim.

~-~

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip.  Drip._

Cami concentrated on the sound of the water leaking from the faucet of the old claw foot tub and the way the almost too-hot water felt against her skin.  She cleared her mind and let herself enjoy the way the heat permeated her tense muscles, relaxing them one by one.

Her mind drifted, replaying the day’s events…Klaus’s cruel words.  She tried not to dwell on the memory.  She knew Klaus well enough to know he lashed out when he was angry or hurt.  That didn’t make what he’d said okay, but it meant the psychologist in her understood his motives.  Of course that was assuming that the idea of her conceiving a child with someone else was indeed upsetting to him, that she had hurt him with the news of her son.  She didn’t know if she had that kind of power over him, the power to inflict true emotional pain, but she had to believe that she did…because the alternative, that he had said what he did simply to be cruel—not out of hurt-fueled anger, but out of genuine disregard and hatefulness, was devastating.

And though his words would likely sting for a long time, the truth was, she had to face the fact that what he said _might_ very well be true.  Her son might not be his.  The idea of it was crazy to her…that she might somehow have conceived a child with someone without knowing it, but it was really no less crazy than imagining that her time with Klaus had resulted in her pregnancy.  Her time in New Orleans had taught her nothing if not that what she thought she knew of the world was but a tiny portion of reality. 

She prayed. 

The part of her that still believed in God after what had happened to Shawn, to Uncle Kieran, to her…that part of her prayed as hard as it could.  The prayer was simple.

  _Please._

_Please.  Please.  Please._

Over and over.  That was all.

As angry as she was at Klaus…as hurtful as his words had been to her, she wanted nothing more than for him to be Nik’s father.  She knew him, had seen inside him.  If she could prove to him that Nik was his, then he would be just as devoted to and as fiercely protective of her son as he was of his daughter.  And what mother could want more for her child than that?  Certainly Klaus came with his share of issues, but his love for his child could not be argued.

Anger and abandonment issues aside, he had a deep capacity for love.  Anyone lucky enough to take up residency in his heart would be the receiver of a loyalty more fierce than any Cami had witnessed before. 

_Please._

She needed to find out the truth about what had happened three-and-a-half years ago.

Her thoughts shifted, drifting back to the beginning of this whole mess. 

In his quest to find a remedy to the curse trapping Hayley in wolf form, Klaus had killed a warlock whose talisman he needed for the reversal spell.  It turned out the warlock had a twin sister who was even more magically gifted than he had been.  

Klaus had brought her wrath down on all of them.

_“Way to go, Klaus…you killed the Wicked Warlock of the East,” Cami teased, darkly._

_“Pardon?” he asked, clearly unaware of what she was referring to._

_“Didn’t you ever see The Wizard of Oz?” she asked in a surprised voice._

_He blinked at her._

_“Dorothy drops a house on the Wicked Witch of the East and then her sister, the Wicked Witch of the West, swoops in to avenge her sister’s death?”_

_Blink._

_“Who killed my sister?” she impersonated, in a screechy voice._

_Blink.  Blink._

_“Really?” she asked, exasperated._

_Nothing._

_Nevermind,” she muttered, finally giving up._

In light of said witch, Thora’s, campaign to kill everyone Klaus had ever crossed paths with, Cami had been invited to stay at the compound.  She’d refused at first, but Klaus had convinced her to stay fairly easily by claiming that he needed her help caring for Hope in Hayley and Rebekah’s absence. 

She’d been skeptical, but in a surprisingly short amount of time, she and Klaus had developed a sort of domestic rhythm, where the infant was concerned, with Elijah pitching in when necessary. 

Time and proximity bred a certain undercurrent which began to accompany their interactions.  That same electricity had always been there between them, snapping and popping when they ventured too near, but living in the same space had heightened it to almost unbearable proportions. 

Something had been bound to give at some point.

And, finally, it had.

The first time he kissed her she was standing in Hope’s room deep in the middle of a warm New Orleans night.  The baby had cried out in the darkness and Cami had come to soothe her, swaying back and forth and singing softly until she drifted back to sleep.  She’d placed the child back in her crib and stood quietly for a few moments, toying with the necklace at her throat and staring out the open window at the foggy, moonlit night.

_“What are you thinking about, Camille?” his warm breath puffed against the back of her neck, startling her from her reverie._

_She turned, eyes wide, pulse beating rapidly at the base of her throat.  She had no filter when it came to him, so she told him the truth._

_“You,” she whispered into the balmy air._

_His eyes darkened in a way that felt both familiar and dangerous, and something deep inside of her clenched tightly in response._

_“Me?” he confirmed, softly, reaching up to caress her hair where it moved slightly in the night breeze._

_She nodded, stepping bravely into his space, her heart pounding._

_He smiled._

_“My brave bartender,” he said, gruffly, slipping his fingers through her hair, pressing the tips into her scalp.  Sending little shivers up her spine._

_The moonlight hanging in the foggy air caused everything to take on an unearthly glow, and she found herself mesmerized by the way his eyes looked in the glowy half-light.  His face came down toward hers and Cami pressed her toes into the soft carpet, moving herself another inch closer to him, unwilling to give him the chance to back away this time._

_She watched his lashes catch the moonlight as they dipped toward his cheeks, and her eyes slipped closed just as his lips pressed against hers.  They were full and soft and they held hers, expertly…cradling and rocking, massaging and pulling, coaxing…_

And just like that, it had been over.  Like every other time emotions between them had become heightened, he had disappeared, leaving her standing in the moonlight alone.

Suddenly, she was brought back to the present, her skin prickling with awareness.

Her eyes snapped open.

“Klaus?” she whispered into the steamy air.

“You really should lock your doors, love,” came his lilting reply from directly behind her.  “It simply wouldn’t do to have a stranger waltz in off the street.”

The water sloshed over the sides of the tub as Cami spun to face him. 

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.  “How did you get in my house?  I didn’t invite you.”

“This is my house now, love.  I bought it.”  He smiled, smugly.

“Of course you did,” she breathed.  “That was you, last night?  In my room?” she accused, already knowing the answer to her question.

“Guilty, as charged,” he confessed, unrepentantly.

She forced air through her nose, annoyed by his arrogance and unsettled by his proximity, given the nature of the memory she’d just been entertaining.

“You scared my—,”she paused, swallowing her near mistake.  “You scared Hope,” she finished, softly, casting her eyes downward.  She realized then that she should probably be embarrassed by her nakedness, but the foamy, lightly scented bubbles coating the surface of the water shielded most of her bare skin from his eyes.  Honestly, she was too emotionally exhausted to care…and he’d seen it once before, anyway.

She felt him take her hand from its perch against the cool porcelain of the tub.  His thumb stroked gently across her knuckles, and she stared at their joint hands, unable to look away.

“Cami,”he said, softly, as he knelt down beside the tub, placing his other hand along her jawline and tilting her face until her eyes met his.  “I’m not here to hurt Hope or you…or your son,” he promised. 

She could see sincerity and regret shining clearly in his eyes.  He was sorry for what he’d said…she knew he was.

Klaus paused, watching a lone tear cling precariously to Cami’s lower lashes. 

“You once said that you trusted me not to hurt you,” he nearly whispered.  “Do you still?”

His eyes pleaded with her.

_Forgive me,_ they seemed to say.

She hesitated, focusing hard on the emotions she saw swirling in the blue-green depths. 

Eventually, her head nodded, just barely, and Klaus watched the lone tear as it quivered momentarily before losing its grip and slipping silently down her cheek, finally disappearing into the bathwater below.


	4. Turning Tables

 

 

_Weak._

She was so weak when it came to Klaus.

How was she supposed to protect her kids from being hurt by his actions when she didn’t even have the self-discipline to protect herself?  She threw on a sweatshirt over her yoga pants and stomped back toward the living room where she’d sent him to wait after he interrupted her bath.

When she rounded the corner she found him kneeling in front of the fireplace, adding another log to the low-burning flames.  She watched the muscles play along his back as he stoked the fire back to life, appreciating the ease and grace with which his body moved.  Her palms itched to press against his skin, to feel his muscles tighten beneath her fingertips as she had once before.  Instead, she clasped her hands together, her fingers turning white under the pressure, and made her way over to the couch.  Ignoring the lamp, she opted instead to leave the room illuminated only by the forgiving ambiguity of firelight.  She tucked herself into one corner of the sofa and pulled both feet up beneath her.

He sensed her return to the room, but didn’t turn, instead, allowing her a moment to settle in.  When he was satisfied with the quality of the fire, he joined her on the couch.  He took his place at the opposite end, watching her watch him, cautiously.  He hated the guarded look she wore when she looked at him now, but knew he deserved no less.  Despite all his self-righteous tendencies, he knew Cami’s reservations regarding him were well deserved.  He would have to work on that.

First thing was first.

“I’m sorry, for what I said,” he offered, quietly, but sincerely.  “I should have never implied that you…that your son…”  He tapered off, unable to find better words.  The boy’s existence was still a source of discomfort for him.  Cami had implied that the child could be his, and though a small part of him had basked in the possibility, the realistic part of him had shut the feeling down quickly and thoroughly. 

He was a hybrid and she was human and that was that. 

The alternative possibilities made him immeasurably angry, so he tried not to focus on them too often.  Once they were back in New Orleans he could keep his distance from Cami and the boy…maybe over time it would become easier to put the possibilities out of his mind, but for now, he was stuck dealing with them head on.

And so, the different likelihoods flitted through his mind once again…

One…Cami had, at some point, had an affair with someone else and was now lying about it.  There were two problems with that possibility, the first being that he doubted she was lying, as she was one of the most honest people he’d ever known.  Plus, he liked to think that he would know if she ever lied to him.  The other issue with this theory was that, in order for her to have _had an affair with someone else_ , he and Camille would have to have been in some sort of committed relationship…which, to be fair, they had not been.  He hated this possibility.

Two…someone had somehow gotten her pregnant without her knowledge and therefore without her consent…meaning, against her will.  This possibility caused him to see shades of red he’d never experienced before.  If this was the case, which he hoped with everything in him it was not, he felt certain she had no memory of the…event.  When she told him there had been no one but him, he believed her…or at least, he believed that _she_ believed it.  He abhorred this possibility.

Three…somehow, against all the odds, he and Cami had managed to create a life.  This was the possibility he entertained the least, because it was the most unlikely, and it had the most potential to devastate him. 

A son.

His son.

Their…

He pushed the idea away, reminding himself of the impossibility of it.

And so, he vacillated between the other two options. 

Camille is a liar…or…Camille is a victim.

He pushed down the rage that simmered just below the surface and focused on her presence at the other end of the couch.  She looked sleepy and warm and beautiful, and he thought about that night three years ago.

He remembered making love to her, her body pliant and blessedly warm against his.  He remembered lying with her in his arms afterwards, burying his face in her soft hair, breathing in the scent of her. 

_“I’ll do it,” she whispered, and he pulled back to look her in the eye.  She looked back at him with those wide luminous eyes that he found it so easy to lose himself in._

_“I’ll protect Hope.  You can compel me.  I’ll do it…” she said, raising her chin, putting forth a bravado he was certain she didn’t feel._

_He trusted her though, more than anyone else, to keep Hope safe, to care for his child until he could come for them._

_“I’ll find you.  When it’s safe…I’ll find you,” he said, running his fingertip softly along her brow, the bridge of her nose, across her lips._

_“Promise?” she whispered, her voice trembling only slightly._

_“I promise,” he whispered back, pressing his lips to hers, sealing his promise with a kiss._

“I believe you,” she said, pulling him back to the present.  “And I even forgive you, Klaus.  I know you were angry…maybe even hurt,” she said the words softly.  “But…” she shook her head, “I don’t know if I can ever forget those words.”

He nodded, his heart uncharacteristically heavy.  “Fair enough,” he conceded, seriously.  “I shall do my best to replace your memories of my misdeeds with more noble actions in the future.”

A small smile touched her lips at the thought of Klaus Mikaelson acting nobly.  In the past, on most days, for him to act tolerably was all she really hoped for.

“What do you want from me, Klaus?” she asked, frankly.  “I mean, obviously, you want to see Hope, but she’s four so, she’s sleeping at eleven PM at night, so…I mean, what do you want right now?”

“Such a simple question, with such a complicated answer, Camille,” he said, his lips curling provocatively around the curves of her name.

She felt warmth in her cheeks and she sat up a little straighter, refusing to fall prey to his charms.  She couldn’t risk it. She had to stay clear and focused on what was best for the kids.  And right now that meant figuring out what his plan was for them.

He could tell she was uncomfortable, so he gave her what he assumed she was asking for; a brief rundown of his plans for the immediate future.  “I would like to get back to New Orleans as soon as possible.  I know you probably have affairs to put in order here, so we can take a few days, if need be, but I’d like to leave as soon as possible.  As for Hope…I took the liberty of peeking in on her while you dressed.”  He paused, looking away.  “She’s beautiful,” he said, looking back at her.  “Thank you, Camille…for protecting her…just as you said you would…as I trusted you would.”

She almost thanked him _…_ for keeping his promise, for finding them, but she was still angry it had taken him so long.  “What took you so long?” she asked, taking the opportunity to voice her thoughts on the subject.  She tried to keep the accusation in her voice to a minimum, but she wasn’t sure she’d succeeded.

He bowed his head.  How he regretted that it had taken so long to bring them home.

“When Thora threatened you, threatened everyone in my life that I…that meant something to me…I had to protect you all as best I could.  The best way for me to protect Hope was to have her far away with absolutely no ties to me or anyone I knew.  Davina cast that spell to make Hope untraceable by locator spells, but as you know, it would only work if she was with someone who was a stranger to me.  My solution was to make you a stranger, to compel you to forget all of us and send you both far away, with only myself knowing where to find you.  Even _I_ didn’t have an _exact_ location, but when I compelled you, I added a vision…a _suggestion_ , if you will…of a lighthouse and cold Atlantic waters.”

Cami gasped. 

“The lighthouse,” she whispered.  She hadn’t realized that the vision he’d planted within her mind had come from him and not from her own dreams.  She’d just thought she was drawn to the old lighthouse on Breaker Point for some inexplicable reason.  Now, she knew there was a very good reason.

She remained silent, so he took that as a cue and continued with his story.

“Obviously, I couldn’t know how close to the place you’d settle…a mile, fifty miles…but I knew you’d be close…close enough for me to find you easily enough when the time was right, when it was safe.”

“So, what happened?” she asked, no trace of accusation in her voice this time, only a genuine desire to know the truth.

He sighed.

“Things fell apart after you left.  Thora destroyed the talisman I needed in order to restore Hayley to her rightful form, so the wolves remained of little use to us in the fight to defeat her.  She was more powerful than we gave her credit for…she bound Rebekah and Elijah to me and then stuck a dagger in my heart.  Your friend, Davina, apparently thought you were better off without the likes of me in your life, because rather than try to find and undagger me in order to locate you, she left my siblings and I in our tomb, bound together and forced to slumber as long as that dagger remained in my heart.  During each full moon, Hayley and her pack attempted to find Rebekah, Elijah and I…but when their efforts failed, they turned toward defeating Thora instead.  They knew if they could kill her, her curse would be broken, unbinding my siblings and I, allowing Rebekah and Elijah to awaken and be freed.  Unfortunately, it took much longer than they would have liked to defeat her.  Honestly, considering the small amounts of time they had to work with…it’s miraculous they defeated her at all.”

He paused there, and she watched his face.  Guilt was etched clearly into his features…it was visible in the set of his mouth, the squint of his eyes.  He knew that the curse he’d placed on Hayley and her pack had cost them all something he was unaccustomed to caring about. 

Time.

Not a precious commodity when you are immortal.  But when those you care about are not?  What then?

“About three months ago, Hayley and Jackson’s pack finally managed to kill Thora, releasing Rebekah, Elijah, and I from the binding spell.  Apparently, there was some debate amongst my siblings about whether or not undaggering me was the best course of action.  It seems my beloved sister had taken a page from Davina’s book, wondering if maybe it was best for you and Hope to simply remain gone, with no memory of those you’d left behind.  Fortunately, Hayley can be quite persuasive where Elijah is concerned…she knew I was the only one who knew how to find Hope.”

He looked down at his hands.

“It’s been nearly three months since Elijah removed the dagger from my heart…and it was only last night that I was finally able to breathe without a crippling pain in my chest.”

He raised his head, his eyes locking with hers, and Cami’s heart wrenched at the sheen of tears she saw there. 

She panicked.

She’d been doing fine up to this point, maintaining a decent amount of anger toward him for his long list of offences:  walking in to her bar five years ago, making her care about him, compelling her, leaving her, coming back, taking her daughter, saying what he had about her son…the list went on.

But _this_?  She didn’t know what to do with this.  Her heart willed her to take his words at face value…it pressed her to open her arms and comfort him…to take comfort in his arms.

 _Stay strong,_ she thought to herself.  She needed to keep her head in the game while she figured out this stuff with Nik.  Her son, her children, had to remain her first priority.  She swallowed hard and cleared her throat. 

“I’m sure finding Hope was a great relief to you,” she managed, her voice thick and strained around the lump in her throat.  She purposefully ignored the fact that it was _her_ room he’d been skulking about in the middle of the night last night.

He looked like he was about to say more, to argue, so she pushed ahead, giving him what she knew he’d come for, “We’ll go with you.  We’ll go back to New Orleans.”

Her intuition worked.  That silenced him.

“We can leave tomorrow.  There’s nothing holding us here.”  She paused, and then added, “None of it was real anyway.”  She stood abruptly.  “Are we done here?  I’d like to sleep if we’re packing up and leaving tomorrow.”  She looked at a spot near his shoulder, purposefully avoiding his eyes.

_None of it was real anyway._

Her words rang loud and clear in his head.

“Yes,” he said, his tone subdued.  “Of course.  You’re tired…it’s late.  Get some rest and I’ll come back tomorrow.”

She nodded, stepping around him and heading for her bedroom.

Feeling dismissed, Klaus couldn’t help one last attempt at connecting with the woman he’d spent the last three months searching for.  Of course, he’d been searching for his daughter as well…she was, after all, the single most important person in his life.  But after a thousand years a man knows himself pretty well…and something inside of Klaus was telling him he’d been searching for Camille O’Connell a lot longer than three months.

He reached out, instinctively, and caught her arm as she passed by.

She looked at him, questioning.

A three-and-a-half-year-old memory came back to him.

_They were standing alone next to the bar at Rousseau’s._

_She poured them both a drink._

_“I’d taken a shift from another girl.  If not for that, it could’ve been someone else standing here right now instead of me…” she said, sounding just a little sad._

_He tossed back his drink, setting the tumbler on the mahogany bar._

_He stared into her blue eyes, and she didn’t look away._

_“You know, I prefer to see it the other way.  If it wasn’t that night, this bar, that hundred dollar bill, it would’ve been Jackson Square, staring at a painting, or Frenchman Street, listening to jazz.”_

_He stepped into her personal space, and she didn’t back away._

_“I would’ve found you…” he whispered._

His fingers tightened around Cami’s arm, and he tugged her into his embrace. 

She stumbled a bit, caught off guard.

He held her upright, folded her into his arms, and held on, tightly.

Hesitantly, Cami’s arms came up and slipped around Klaus’s shoulders.

His forearms tightened around her ribs, crushing her to him, and she responded more readily this time.  She pressed her toes into the carpet, adding to her height, and allowing her arms to slip up over his shoulders and wrap loosely around his neck. 

She felt him take a deep breath, experienced the way the air trembled as it left his body on exhale.  Her arms tightened around his neck and the muscles in her throat worked, emotion overwhelming her as she tried desperately to reign in the enormous amount of relief she felt at being in his arms again.

“Took a little longer than I’d planned,” he breathed into her ear.  “But I found you,” he whispered, fiercely.

She was nodding against his shoulder; the first few buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned, and he could feel her eyelashes brushing against the bare skin of his collar bone.

He slid his hand up between her shoulder blades, tracing her spine until it disappeared under her soft, blonde hair.  His palm cupped the back of her neck, his thumb tracing the little whorl of downy hair at the base of her skull, just behind her left ear.

She shivered.

He remembered that particular spot from another time she’d let him cradle her in his arms.

Then, almost as quickly as it had begun, it was over.

Suddenly, she had pulled away.  There had been a rush of cool air, announcing her exit, and then the door to her bedroom had closed, softly but firmly.

This time it was Klaus who was left standing alone in the dark.


	5. The Prodigal Father

 

 

“Mama,” she felt more than heard the tiny whisper against her ear.

“Hmm?” she asked, stretching, languidly.

“Mama, he in here,” came the whisper again; then louder, in full voice, “He in here, Mama.”

Cami’s eyes flew open, and she sat upright in bed. 

Klaus stood just inside her bedroom door, leaning casually against the door frame.

She pulled Nik onto her lap, unsure of whether it was to protect the child or to shield herself from Klaus’s appraising stare.  She was modestly dressed, in a t-shirt and sleep shorts, but still she felt exposed, vulnerable.  Her heart beat swiftly, and she struggled to clear the fog of sleep from her brain.

Klaus took in the pair before him.

Cami was barely awake, her eyes soft and hair still mussed from sleep.  She wore a thin gray t-shirt that accentuated more than hid what he knew lay just beneath the faded cotton.  Her slender arms cradled the young boy to her torso, protectively.  The child was sturdy and blond; a handsome little chap.  In Klaus’s mind, he looked a lot like Cami.

As he watched, her arms slowly relaxed their hold on the boy.  Her palms came to rest on his tiny shoulders, and she pressed her lips to his temple.  “Nik, this is my friend, Klaus,” she said, quietly to the boy.  And then to Klaus, “Klaus, this is…my son, Dominik.” 

She hesitated at the word _my_ , and Klaus pretended not to notice.

“Can you say _hi_ , Nik?”

“I _say_ hi,” Nik replied, matter-of-factly.

“You did?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes, we’ve met, haven’t we?” Klaus said, smiling at the boy. 

She narrowed her eyes.  “Did you compel my son?” she asked, only partly joking.

“Not necessary, love.  He’s a friendly little fellow…let me right in once I explained that we were old friends,” he assured, smiling broadly.

Cami tried not to freak out about the fact that her “stranger danger” talks had clearly fallen on deaf ears, and instead focused on the fact that Klaus was standing in her bedroom, looking as though he felt right at home there.

“I know you’re anxious to spend time with Hope, but would it have killed you to call and give me a heads up that you were on your way over?”

“I told you last night that I’d be back today,” he reminded.

“I hungry, Mama,” Nik interrupted, placing his chubby little hands on either of Cami’s cheeks and moving his face directly in front of hers.

Cami laughed, indulgently.  “You are?” she asked. 

The boy nodded, emphatically. 

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you some breakfast,” she replied, lifting the child until he had both feet planted firmly on the mattress.  Nik balanced carefully on the bed’s soft surface and waited patiently for Cami to get to her feet.  Once she was standing, he lifted his arms toward her, expectantly.

Klaus watched Cami swing the boy easily onto one hip, as though she’d done it a thousand times.  He realized, somberly, that she had.  Suddenly, he could see her so clearly in his mind’s eye, holding Hope in the same position, while her once-flat abdomen struggled to make room for new life.  Her belly would have been full and round, and his daughter would have placed her hands there, intrigued by the feel of her brother moving in his mother’s womb.

“Klaus?” she called his name for what must have been the second time.  “Are you okay?  I asked if you wanted some coffee.”

He shook himself, clearing the beautiful, yet painful, image from his mind.  “That would be lovely, thank you.”

She looked at him questioningly, but nodded and led the way out of the bedroom.

He followed her down the hall, listening to Nik chatter and watching as the boy twisted his pudgy fist into the soft, blonde waves that fell between Cami’s shoulder blades.  The child worried the silky locks between his thumb and fingers and chatted happily about what type of cereal he wanted for breakfast.

They stopped at another bedroom door, one he already knew belonged to his daughter.

“Are you ready for this?” Cami asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

 _Yes and no_ , he thought, but nodded his head anyway.

Cami pushed through the partially open door. 

“Hope,” she called, softly.  “It’s time to wake up, baby.”  She looked back at Klaus, her eyes weary.  “There’s someone here I want you to meet.”  She sat down on the edge of the bed, balancing Nik on her knees.  “Hope,” she whispered, pulling back the lilac covered bedspread to reveal the tiny girl that lay beneath it.  “Wake up, sweet girl,” she encouraged, leaning down to kiss the apple of Hope’s rosy, sleep-warmed cheek.

Klaus watched the child stir and roll onto her back.  He watched her smile sleepily, eyes still closed.  “G’morning, Mama,” she yawned, stretching.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Cami replied, glancing nervously at Klaus.  “Hey, there’s someone here I want you to meet, okay?”

The girl sat up, rubbing her eyes and blinking away sleep.  Once she managed to get both eyes open and focused, she looked expectantly at Cami, and then, almost immediately, her eyes moved to Klaus.

Her hair was blonde, though not sandy like Nik’s.  It was a few shades darker, more honey-colored.  It would probably be dark like Hayley’s someday.  Her eyes were the same blue-green as his though.  As he stood taking in her features, he watched as she turned her eyes back to Cami, expectantly.

“Hope, this is Klaus.”  Cami brushed her fingers along Hope’s forehead, tucking her wispy, golden locks behind her ear.  “Do you remember who Klaus is?”

Klaus looked at Cami, confused.  Of course the child couldn’t possibly remember him, but as he opened his mouth to question Cami’s words, he saw Hope nod her head.

“Klaus is my daddy,” she answered, matter-of-factly.

All the air suddenly left the room.  Klaus struggled to breathe.

“That’s right, he’s your daddy,” Cami confirmed, nodding.  Her eyes moved to Klaus’s.  “He loves you very much, and he’s come a very long way to see you.”

His eyes held hers, and he tilted his head in question.

“She asked about her dad a few months ago,” she shrugged, helplessly.  “I remembered Hope’s father…just like you asked me to, I guess.  Not specific memories, but…your face, your name.”  _The fact that I loved you_ , she added, silently, to herself.  “I told her you loved her, but you’d had to go far away and couldn’t be with us.  She was satisfied with that, so we left it there.”

He swallowed, hard.

His eyes returned to his daughter, and she smiled at him, shyly. 

His heart hurt.  It was a bittersweet ache.

He knelt down beside the bed, taking Cami’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

“Hello, little one,” he said, softly, to the girl.  He gave her his most charming smile and then laughed, completely beguiled, when she all but batted her lashes in response.

“She’s learned from the best, I see?” Klaus teased, turning his smile toward Cami.

She chuffed out a soft chuckle in response.

“Do you want to get up and have some breakfast, Hope?” Cami asked, extracting her hand from Klaus’s and rubbing it, absently, up and down Nik’s back as she waited for the girl’s answer.

Hope nodded, good naturedly, and stood up on the bed.

Klaus seemed to hesitate, but recovered almost immediately, bowing his head and offering his hand to Hope as though he were a footman helping her exit her royal carriage.

“M’lady…would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the kitchen?”

Hope giggled and placed her tiny hand in Klaus’s much larger one, and he helped her jump easily from her perch on the low-lying twin bed.

The two of them were completely enamored with each other already.  Cami released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.  She was both relieved and heavy-hearted. 

She pulled Nik closer to her chest and patted his warm back, comfortingly.  Rising to her feet, she plastered on a bright smile and headed toward the door.

“Who wants orange juice with their breakfast?”

~-~

Cami dropped the duffel bag she’d been carrying over her shoulder, and it landed with a _thud_ at her feet.

“You may be able to blink yourself home or whatever it is that you do, but the two toddlers and I can’t do that.  So, if you want us to come with you, we’re doing this the normal way.”

He gave her a look.

“Fine,” he conceded.  “But do we really need all of this?” he asked, gesturing to the large mound of child-related paraphernalia piled haphazardly in the entryway.

“Car seats?  Clothes?” she asked, sarcastically.  “Yes, Klaus, we _really_ need all of this.”

“What about this?” he asked, incredulously, pointing to a bag filled with small toys and handheld games.

“You know I _have_ been doing this parenting thing _by myself_ for the past three years, but you’re probably right…I’m sure you know best what we should bring,” she tossed over her shoulder, as she headed back into the main part of the house to gather the last of their things.

He shut his mouth, firmly, and picked up the bag of toys.

Breakfast had gone as well as could be expected under the circumstances.  Things were understandably strained between he and Cami, but the children had responded to his presence with nothing more than mild curiosity and acceptance.  Hope had taken it all in stride; the fact that he was her father, gone and now miraculously returned, was barely a blip on her radar.  She was, of course, completely taken with him, though…even he could see that.  And the boy…he seemed too young to understand anything more than friend or stranger, scary or not scary.  Klaus had, thankfully, somehow fallen into the decidedly Not Scary category.  He figured it had much to do with the two ladies of the house and their seemingly easy acceptance of his presence.

Over breakfast Cami had explained to the children that the four of them were going on a trip, back home, to the city they were from.  She’d made it sound like a grand adventure, and by the time breakfast was over, the little ones were rushing off, excitedly, to gather all of their most precious treasures to take with them on the trip.  The New Orleans she’d painted for them was decidedly different than the reality he and Cami had faced in the past, but it was every bit as magical, and it was the side of the city he hoped they’d come to know and love, as he did.

He tossed the duffel bag Cami had been carrying into the back of the car.  Just a few more things to load and they’d be on their way.

~-~

Cami hit the station seek button on the center console of the SUV for what had to be the tenth time in as many minutes.

Klaus reached over and hit the power button, causing the static that had been filling the air for the last thirty miles or so to end, abruptly.

She glared at him.

“It’s no use, there won’t be any decent stations for at least another fifty miles,” he said, sensing her look, but not bothering to make eye contact.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me now?” she asked, sarcastically.

He gripped the wheel, more tightly.  “I was never _not_ talking to you, Camille.  I was simply trying to navigate this ridiculously large vehicle, through rush-hour traffic,” he responded, referring to the light blue mini-van they were currently occupying.  “You were the one that insisted on this odious contraption,” he muttered.

“No, no… _I_ said we should fly.  _You_ insisted we drive,” Cami pointed out.  “And this van had the highest safety rating.”

“Yes, well, you neglected to inform me that my daughter is deathly afraid of flying and would therefore scream her bloody head off at the sight of an aeroplane,” he reminded, mock-sweetly.

“She’s not _afraid to fly_ , Klaus.  She’s never done it before.  Like I said at the airport, she was just tired, and it was something new and scary.  Once we were onboard and in the air she would’ve probably fallen asleep within fifteen minutes of take-off.”

“The TSA agents who showed up at the gate didn’t seem interested in betting on those odds,” he grumbled.

“Well, regardless, if we’d stuck it out on the plane we’d be in New Orleans by now.  As it stands, we still have two days of driving to do,” she pointed out.

Cami glanced in the back seat at her sleeping babies.  Hope had cried so hard earlier that her little cheeks remained slightly pink, even now, nearly two hours later.  Cami had felt terrible for the girl but had to laugh at the look of horror on Klaus’s face in response to the child’s complete meltdown.  He’d fought many battles in his thousand years, she was sure, but he’d been nearly crippled by the tears of a four-year-old.  It was actually very sweet, even though it meant they now had a twenty-seven hour drive ahead of them. 

She sighed, anticipating the hours ahead.  They’d lived on an island…her kids had rarely experienced a car ride, let alone one that lasted _days_. 

She felt Klaus’s hand on her knee and whipped her head toward him. 

Her pensive sigh had drawn his attention.  He watched her as she watched the children sleep.  She looked anxious, protective.  His heart gave an odd little lurch, and, almost as if in reflex, his hand reached out, landing on her knee.  He felt her muscles jump beneath her skin and watched as her face swung toward him, her eyes wide and slightly startled. 

“They’ll be fine,” he said, attempting to assuage her worry.

She looked doubtful, but she nodded her head, acknowledging the probable truth of his words.  The likelihood was that the kids would be fine.  They might get bored and fussy, but they’d survive the trip intact.  It was she and Klaus she should probably be worried about.

She looked down at his hand, resting possessively on her knee.  She watched as he quickly withdrew it, as she knew he would.  It was always like that with him.

One step forward…two hundred miles back.

It was why she would keep a tight leash on whatever lingering feelings she had for him.  Too much was up in the air right now…too much was so uncertain.  And she wasn’t the same person she’d been five years ago when she’d met him as a single psych-student-slash-bartender, or even three years ago when she’d known the truth of who he was and entertained the idea that maybe he cared about her just a little…just enough. 

She wasn’t that girl anymore.  She was a mother now, and that had to be her first priority.

She angled her body away from him and pressed her temple against the cold glass of the window, thinking about New Orleans, thinking about home. 

Only seventeen-hundred more miles to go.


	6. The Long Road Home

 

 

The audible drag of the windshield wipers along the wet glass pulled Cami out of a light sleep.  She blinked her eyes and raised her head from its resting place against the window.  The balled-up jacket she’d been using as a pillow tumbled into her lap and she caught it, folding it sloppily and placing it next to her in the seat.  It was completely dark outside and, judging by the silence, the children were sleeping.  She turned, checking on them.

“They’ve been out cold for an hour or so.”

She looked over at Klaus.  His profile was illuminated by the green glow of the dashboard lights.  “How long have I been asleep?” she questioned.

“You’ve been in and out for the past couple of hours.”

“Sorry,” she offered, apologetically.

“No worries.  You’re entitled to a bit of rest now and then,” he replied.  “Besides, the children were quiet…no harm done.”

She sat up straighter in her seat.  “Where are we?”

“Just North of Philadelphia.”

She nodded.  “Do you want me to drive for awhile?”

He smiled, handsomely, and chuckled, replying, “No, that’s alright.”

She was charmed by his smile.  And annoyed that he found her offer amusing.  “What’s wrong with my driving?  You don’t even know how I drive,” she defended.

“I’m sure you’re an exceptional driver, love.  No need to get defensive,” he assured her.  “I’m planning to stop soon for the night, though…no point in stopping to switch drivers now.”

“Oh,” she replied, somewhat placated by his explanation, but feeling a bit guilty for not doing some of the driving.

“You can drive in the morning, if you like,” he offered, seeming to sense her discomfort.

“Yeah, okay.”

Lightning flashed across the sky, followed distantly by the low rumble of thunder.  Cami looked out the window, noting the inclement weather.  “Looks like we’re stopping just in time.”

Klaus nodded.  “Hey, what about that?” he asked, gesturing to a sign advertising a Marriot ten miles away.

“Anywhere is fine with me.  Just somewhere we can be comfortable and get a good night’s sleep.”  Despite her dozing for the past couple of hours, Cami felt exhausted.  She thought maybe all of the emotional upheaval of the last two days was getting to her.  It’d be nice to get a good night’s rest tonight and get a fresh start in the morning.

Klaus watched Camille out of the corner of his eye, noting the stiff way she held herself.  She was a far cry from the young woman he’d met at a French Quarter bar five years ago.  He searched for something to say that would put her mind at ease. 

He could think of nothing.  So, in the end he remained silent.

They continued on that way for the next ten miles, both lost in their own thoughts.

When they pulled up to the hotel, Klaus put the van in park and said, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Cami remained in the van with the children, listening to the steady downpour.

A few minutes later, Klaus returned, looking glum.

“Don’t tell me they don’t have any rooms,” she asked, dreading his answer.  “The vacancy sign is lit up!” she pointed, emphatically, just in time to watch the neon light flicker and turn off.  “No,” she groaned. 

“Actually,” he corrected, “I got us the last room.”

“Room?” she asked.  “As in singular?”

He shrugged, apologetically.  “It would seem that with the weather being what it is, everyone has decided to stop for the night.”

“Seriously?” she asked, exasperated.  _Perfect.  That’s just perfect_ , she thought to herself.

He nodded.  “I can go cancel the room and we can look for something else, but…” he trailed off, gesturing to the weather outside the confines of the van’s warm interior.  As if to emphasize his point, a streak of lightning zig-zagged to the ground in the distance, its glow lighting up the darkness for a full second before disappearing.  It was followed immediately by a clap of ground-shaking thunder.

They were not driving any further tonight.

“Can’t you just compel them to give us another room?” she asked, hopefully.

He sighed, reaching for the door handle. 

“No, wait…” she said, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving the vehicle.  She could just picture some poor guy being kicked out of his room and into the middle of this nasty storm.  “It’s fine.  We’ll make due with one room.  Let’s just go get unloaded and get some sleep.  It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m sure.  Really, it’s fine.”

“Okay,” he replied, putting the van in drive and maneuvering it into a nearby parking spot.

Once they were parked, he killed the engine, and they both unbuckled their seat belts and hopped out into the heavy rainfall.

Cami pulled open the rear passenger door and began unbuckling Nik from his carseat.  She’d take the kids in first and then come back for their bags.  She knew both kids would sleep through getting carried inside as long as another big clap of thunder didn’t come along while they were outside.  She lifted her sleeping son’s weight into her arms and shifted him to one side, covering him with the same jacket she’d been using as a pillow earlier.  Now, if she could just get Klaus to unbuckle Hope from her booster seat and hand the girl to her, she could carry them both inside in one trip.

She heard the click of the opposite door opening and looked up to find Klaus unbuckling the seatbelt and lifting Hope into his arms.  He settled the girl against his chest and placed his large hand against her back, holding her securely against him. 

Cami’s heart lurched at the sight, and for a moment, she froze. 

Recovering quickly, she smiled at him.  “Thanks,” she said, softly.

“Of course,” he replied.

“Here,” she said, lifting a small, purple blanket from the floorboard and passing it to him across the open space. 

He placed the blanket over Hope’s head and stepped back, reaching for the door handle.  “Let’s get you all up to the room.  I’ll come back for our things.”

She nodded, closing the van door and heading toward the front of the hotel.  The rain was coming down hard now, and she was quickly becoming drenched.

It only took them a couple of minutes to cross the parking lot and make it upstairs to their room.  Once they stood outside the door, she waited as Klaus shifted Hope’s sleeping form to one arm and dug in his pocket for the room key.  There was an audible click as the key card unlocked the door, and she sighed in relief, already imagining a hot shower and a warm, dry bed.

But as they stepped inside the room, all thought of a peaceful night’s sleep flew out the window.

There, in the center of the room, stood a single king-sized bed.

“Klaus--,” she started.

“I’ll call downstairs,” he said, nodding.


	7. The Unexpected Moments

 

 

“They can send up a crib,” Klaus relayed, dropping the receiver below his chin and giving Cami a questioning look.  He glanced at Nik and Hope, where they lay sleeping in the middle of the king-sized bed, and then back at her.  _Can we use a crib?_

“They’re too big for a crib,” she answered, sighing. 

Klaus declined the offer and exchanged a few more words with the young woman on the phone before setting the receiver back in its cradle and turning his eyes to Cami.  She looked exhausted.  And cold.  Her clothes and hair were still wet from their trek through the rain, and the room wasn’t getting warm yet despite the fact that he’d bumped up the thermostat just before he called downstairs.

“Why don’t you go take a hot shower and try to get warm.  I’ll go down and get our things and we’ll figure this out after that, okay?”

She wanted to say no, that they’d figure it out now, but that hot shower sounded too good to refuse.   So, instead she said, “Thanks, that’d be great.”

He nodded and grabbed his key card off of the desk, heading for the door.  “I’ll be right back.”

Cami took a quick, hot shower, just long enough to warm up and relax so she could, hopefully, get a little sleep.  When she was finished, she stepped out of the shower and then realized that she didn’t have anything to change into. 

She looked heavenward.  This night was too much. 

Wrapping herself in a fluffy, white towel, she called out softly, so as not to wake the children, “Klaus?”

There was a pause and a muffled shuffling on the other side of the door and then his voice rumbled through, “I’m here.  Are you okay?”

She couldn’t help the smile that touched her lips at his response. 

“I’m fine,” she said, cracking the door open, only to find herself face to face with him, looking straight into his blue-green eyes.  She was surprised and said nothing for several seconds, and then recovered, saying in a breathy voice, “Can you, um…can you, please, hand me my bag?”  She pointed behind him, on the floor.  “It’s that black one.”

Klaus breathed in the warm Camille-scented steam that spilled from the now-open bathroom door.  “Sure,” he said, turning his back, momentarily, on the tempting sight that stood before him.  He grabbed the bag and passed it to her.  Cami took it from him, offering him an uncomfortable smile and quickly shutting the door.

She emerged several minutes later, tugging self-consciously at the hem of her navy blue t-shirt.  She was painfully aware of how thin the material was and how short her matching, drawstring sleep-shorts were.  She hadn’t planned on sharing a room with anyone but her kids.  She made her way, quickly, to the bed and slid under the covers, pulling them up to her chest.

Klaus watched her burrow under the blankets, seeking safety from his appreciative gaze, no doubt. 

_Clever girl._

He smiled mildly to himself and then left the room, taking his turn in the small bathroom. 

Fifteen minutes later, he emerged, clean and warm.

Cami glanced up from her phone when the bathroom door clicked open.  She’d been texing Joe, her only real friend in Kavanaugh, making sure things got settled okay at the bar.  She’d felt a bit guilty leaving so suddenly, but she knew the little place would carry on just fine without her.  There were few other places on Durnigan Island for people to patronize.  Joe said things were going fine, but that he missed her.  _I like my whiskey best served by my Cami-girl_ , he had said.  She was going to miss that sweet, old man.  He’d become sort of like family to her over the years.

She became distracted when Klaus exited the bathroom, however.  The hand holding her phone dropped into her lap, and her eyes followed him as he crossed the room.  He had on a pair of dark gray, low-slung athletic shorts and, Cami was certain, nothing else.  His back was to her now, and as he reached for his bag and stuffed his worn clothing inside, she watched the glorious play of muscle beneath skin that occurred along the broad expanse of his shoulders.  Cami swallowed, placing her phone on the bedside table and reaching over to turn off the lamp.  The room grew dim, now lit only by the lamp on the other bedside table.  She watched as he moved to the opposite side of the bed, pausing with one hand on the blankets, waiting for her permission to pull the covers back.  A stray drop of water clung tenaciously to his skin and she watched, distractedly, as it meandered down his sculpted chest, past his navel, toward the waistband of his shorts.  She cleared her throat and moved her eyes up to meet his.  She looked at his hand, where it lightly gripped the blankets, and she hesitated, nervously.

He smiled, wolfishly. 

“We _have_ shared a bed before, Camille,” he reminded.

As he watched, her cheeks flushed an appealing shade of pink. 

“Yes, I’m aware,” she said, tightly, sliding down in the bed and closing her eyes.

Taking that as a sign of her resigned acceptance, he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed.  It wasn’t an open-armed welcome by any means, but he’d take it.  Besides, he knew he deserved far less.

She felt the bed dip under his added weight, but she kept her eyes firmly closed.

He turned off the other lamp and settled on his side, facing her.  Hope and Dominik lay between them, spooned together, Hope’s arm slung protectively across her younger brother’s shoulder, the boy’s small hand holding tightly to one of her fingers, even in his sleep.  Klaus wondered, briefly, if Freya might have ever displayed this type of protective tendency toward him had she not been stolen away at such a tender age.  Certainly, he remembered feeling the in-born need to defend and protect Rebekah. 

Brothers and sisters.

Fathers and daughters.

He suddenly felt the weight of all the questionable decisions, the mistakes, he’d made over the years regarding his family…and a crushing pressure to get it right from now on.

He sighed.

He glanced back at Cami and found her watching him, her eyes suspiciously shiny in the low light.

His mood had shifted, dramatically, from his playful teasing of moments ago, and she appeared to have sensed that.  How she always seemed to see right to the heart of him, baffled him.  It was why he had compelled her to listen to him for all those months under the guise of writing his memoirs.  She had this sort of natural insight into his psyche.  She saw him in a way that no one else ever had.

She continued to watch him, unblinking, and he found himself speaking to her, openly, as he had during those months when she’d acted as his therapist and stenographer.

“I’m tired,” he whispered.

She knew he didn’t mean _physically_ tired.  He was as emotionally exhausted as she was.

“I know,” she whispered back.  “Me too.” 

He cast his eyes down.  He knew that most every tragedy in her life could be traced directly, or at least indirectly, back to him, starting with Kieran’s death, and ending with the complicated situation they now found themselves in regarding Hope. 

He heard the blankets rustle, softly, and looked up.  Cami’s hand hovered there in the darkness just above the blankets, reaching for his.

He swallowed the thousand apologies on his tongue and, silently, took her hand.

They stayed that way for a long time…both of them staring, wordlessly, at the other through the darkness, their joined hands resting on the children sleeping, peacefully, between them. 

Klaus’s thumb stroked a light rhythm along the tender skin of Cami’s inner wrist, unconsciously, keeping perfect time with the steady beat of her heart. 

Until, finally, they slept.

~-~

Klaus woke to a swift, sharp kick to the mid-section, blessedly, though narrowly, north of vital territory.  He blinked several times, allowing his eyes to focus, before recalling where, and more importantly, with whom, he was.  He raised his head and looked around.  He found Hope sleeping on top of the blankets, her head resting on what appeared, through the comforter, to be Cami’s thigh and her feet resting against his abdomen.

He looked over at Cami.  She was on her back, with Nik asleep on her chest, his arms and legs on either side of her torso and his cheek resting just over her heart.  She had one hand on his back and the other on Hope’s shoulder.

On a whim, he grabbed his phone off of the nightstand behind him and snapped a picture of the scene.

Nik stirred on his mother’s chest and Klaus shoved the phone under his pillow lest he be caught red handed, snapping pictures of the sleeping trio.  Nik began to rise and, as Klaus watched, he jammed his tiny elbow into Cami’s ribs whilst searching for leverage to get up.  Klaus reached toward the boy, helplessly, but too late.  Cami’s eyes flew open.

“Dominik!” she hissed, half-rising from her resting place, and lifting him into a sitting position.  “Be careful with your bony elbows, son.”  She flopped back onto her pillow.

The boy laughed, sleepily.  “I sowwy.”  He leaned down and kissed her lips, sweetly.  “I sowwy, Mama.”

“That’s okay, baby,” she said, smiling, eyes still closed.

The boy was sitting on her abdomen now, legs straddling her sides.  “I not hurt you,” he said. 

Klaus watched as the boy gently patted his mother’s breast, just above the spot in her ribs that he had inadvertently assaulted moments before.  “Mama, I not hurt you,” he said again, insistently.

She laughed, opening her eyes and looking at him.  “You didn’t?”

“No.”

She laughed again and reached up to cup his cheeks with both hands, shaking her head.  “I love you.”

The boy grinned and smiled adoringly at Cami.  “I luh you,” he replied and kissed her again, this time on the nose. 

Klaus watched the whole exchange, silently, enjoying the unguarded moment between mother and son. 

Eventually, Hope began to stir, stretching and yawning, and, finally, sitting up between them.

“Good morning, baby,” Cami said to the girl.

“Good morning, Mama,” she replied.  And then, to Klaus, she said, “You sleeped with us?”

He looked at Cami, panic-stricken.

She motioned toward the child, nodding her assent.  _Go ahead, answer her._

Hesitantly, he nodded at Hope.  “I did.  There were no more beds in the hotel, so we all had to share this one.  Is that okay?”

Hope nodded, looking pleased.  “No one ever sleeped with us before!”

Klaus looked at Cami, unsure what to say in response to that. 

She seemed at a loss for words as well.

They needn’t have worried.

“When we get to Norlens, you can sleep in Mommy’s bed ‘cause me and Nik have kid beds and you’re too big for ‘em,” Hope announced, helpfully.

Klaus laughed out loud at that and grinned broadly at Cami, noting the appealing blush spreading across her cheeks.

Cami interceded.  “Honey, it’s _New Orleans_ ,” she corrected, enunciating the words.  “And, remember, we won’t have our stuff there.  We’ll be staying at Klaus’s house.”

“Oh,” said Hope, thoughtfully.  Then, to Klaus, she said, “Will we all sleep with you then?”

“Okay,” Cami broke in before anyone else could say anything else about beds or sleeping arrangements.  “Klaus’s house has plenty of space, we’ll all have beds to sleep in, so let’s worry about that when we get there okay? Oh, hey…speaking of which, we better get up and get on the road or we’re never going to get there!”

Not wasting another moment, she practically sprang from the bed and started digging through bags and pulling out clothes for herself and the children.  There was a flurry of activity in the form of hair brushing and teeth brushing and the eating of breakfast bars that had magically appeared from somewhere.

A little while later, Klaus sat watching the three of them hand garments back and forth in some sort of clothing negotiation ritual.  In her rush to get the children ready, and avoid Hope’s interesting commentary, Cami seemed to have forgotten that she was still in her sleepwear.  She sat there on the floor next to the bed, completely relaxed, trading jeans for dresses, the blue sweater for the green one, and mismatched socks for ones that matched.  She looked up at him and rolled her eyes, exaggeratedly, at something Hope had said.  _Can you believe this kid?_   She smiled, shaking her head, and he smiled back at her, sharing the moment.

A moment between parents.

_Can you believe our kid?  She’s so funny._

It was just a normal moment of a day in the life of their family…and for a few precious seconds, he was a part of it, no questions asked.

 _I could get used to this_ , he thought, but did not say.


	8. The Homestretch

 

 

“Juice!” Dominik cried.

“I told you, no juice right now, buddy.  Have some of your water, okay?”

For the third time in as many minutes, a green sippy cup with dinosaurs on the side tumbled to the floorboard behind the driver’s seat, the sound of it falling followed quickly by a petulant cry. 

The kids were tired and cranky.  After leaving Philadelphia the previous morning, the four of them had driven all day, and then spent about seven hours in another roadside hotel, only to get up painfully early and get back on the road again first thing this morning.  At this point, Cami felt like the adults were probably just as ready to be out of the car as the children.

“Dominik, if you throw that cup down one more time, you’re not getting it back,” she warned, reaching behind Klaus’s seat and handing the cup back to the whining toddler.  Almost immediately the cup sailed between her and Klaus, clattered against the dash, and dropped straight to the floorboard below.

“That’s it!” Cami declared, grabbing the cup from between her feet and depositing it, with a bit more force than necessary, in the cup holder next to her.

“Juice!” exclaimed the young boy, pointing to the cup.

“Dominik,” she warned.

“Juice, Mama,” he whined, squirming in his carseat.  When she didn’t respond right away, he arched his back and pulled at the shoulder straps of his seat, screaming, “Juuuuuuice!”

“Dominik Reece Mikaelson!” she admonished, turning in her seat to face him, fully. “Enough!”

He kicked his feet, sullenly, still crying.

“One,” she warned, her tone low and steady.

The movement of his feet slowed and stopped, but the whiney cry persisted.

“Two,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

The whining slowly dissolved into a silent pout.

Cami faced forward and flopped back in her seat, rubbing her eyes, tiredly.  “Ugh…are we there yet?”

Klaus smiled, tightly.  “Unfortunately, we still have about three more hours.  We’re in the homestretch now though, as they say.”  He turned down the radio, using the button on the steering wheel, and asked casually, “Dominik Reece Mikaelson?”

“Reece was Shawn’s middle name,” she replied, rolling her head to face him, though not lifting it from its resting place against the seatback. 

Klaus nodded, but remained silent.

“But that’s not what you’re talking about,” she surmised, looking down at her hands. She sighed.  “I told you before, I thought he…I thought that you were...” she struggled, searching for the right words.  Finally, she settled on, “I thought you and I were married.”  Picking, distractedly, at her thumbnail, she half-whispered, “My ID says Camille Mikaelson, Klaus.  I mean…what was I supposed to think?”

Klaus recalled how easy it had been to compel an official to get new identification for Cami before he’d sent her and Hope on their way.  If only everything that had come before and after that had been so uncomplicated.

Almost a full minute passed in which neither of them said anything.  The whir of the tires on the pavement and the low murmur of talk radio the only discernible sounds.  When the silence became too much, Cami mumbled into the quiet, “I can change the name…he’s too young to understand anyway.”

Klaus could hear the sadness in Cami’s voice, and it grieved him that he was the one causing her pain, but the situation was painful to him as well.  He glanced in the rearview mirror at the boy who sat at the center of the problem.  Tears, already forgotten, sat drying on his chubby, pink cheeks.  The boy smiled at Hope, flashing dimples that remained hidden unless he grinned broadly enough to reveal them.  He laughed at something she said and covered his mouth with his hand. 

Klaus looked back toward the road ahead.

“It’s a good name, Camille,” he said, cryptically, not agreeing or disagreeing with her.

Now, in this van, with two cranky toddlers in the backseat, was not when or where Cami wanted to have this particular conversation, so she simply remained silent and turned back to the children.

She listened as Hope told Nik his favorite story; the one about the polar bear who lost his way and ended up at the beach.  The story was actually from a book that had belonged to Hope and had somehow become Dominik’s somewhere along the way.  Cami watched Hope’s eyes dance as she recounted the details of the story, her retelling animated and vibrant.  Nik laughed gregariously forgetting all about his earlier tantrum. 

Hope was great at that, at distracting him, comforting him.  She always had been.

Cami thought back to when both children were mere babies.  Hope had been about a-year-and-a-half old when Nik was born.  By the time she was two, the girl had been an expert at entertaining her baby brother.  She’d replaced his pacifier when he’d dropped it, knew his favorite blanket and toys, and no one had made him laugh as quickly or as hard as Hope had.  She’d doted on him like a little mother hen, and as far as Nik was concerned, Hope had hung the moon and arranged every star in the night sky. 

He still wanted to do everything his big sister did, and he wanted her approval that he’d done it well. 

The two of them were inseparable.

Cami sighed, wondering how this new stage of their lives was going to work.  She feared what would happen once they arrived in New Orleans.  She had no idea how to explain to Hope that Hayley was her birth mother, her _real_ mother.  Even the thought of that term… _real mother_ , pressed against Cami’s heart with an almost debilitating weight.  And the thought of the children being separated from one another, of the emotional impact that would undoubtedly have on them, plagued her.  For now, at least, she felt certain Hope would remain with her and Nik, as long as they lived in the compound with Klaus and Elijah, if only because Hayley could not care for the girl whilst trapped outside of her human form.  But what if they figured out how to reverse the curse, as they hoped to…what then?  Would Hayley demand Hope’s immediate return?  Or would the three of them, she, Hayley and Klaus, all share some sort of strange, progressive custody agreement?  She had no idea.  And as murky as that whole situation was, it didn’t even touch on the other big issue she had to deal with.

She had to find out, definitively, who Dominik’s father was…how he’d come to be.  She couldn’t get it all to make sense in her own head, and not knowing was going to wreck her.  She had to find out now while Nik was too young to understand all that was going on. 

She needed to talk to Davina. 

As much as the girl disliked Klaus, she and Cami had been close once, and Cami felt certain that she would help her find out the truth.  Klaus had even said that Davina had tried to protect Cami and Hope by refusing to help bring them back to New Orleans.  Clearly, in her own way, the girl had tried to help her.  If someone had cursed her or manipulated her in some way, she felt certain Davina could shed some light on it…and if Klaus _was_ Nik’s father, she thought Davina could figure out how such a thing was possible.  And besides all that, Cami missed her.  She hadn’t had many friends in the years since she’d been gone, mainly because she’d spent all of her time either working or being with the kids, and she’d missed the comfort of a close friend.  As soon as they made it back to New Orleans she would go see Davina.  As hurtful as the truth might be, she needed to discover it and deal with it, whatever it was.  She had to get some answers…for herself, for Nik, and even for Klaus.

She hadn’t missed the disappointed look he’d worn as he’d made his way down the hallway to his own hotel room the night before.  Unlike their first night on the road, when circumstance had forced them all to not only lodge together, but to share the same bed, their second night had provided no such serendipitous condition.  The weather had been clear, there had been plenty of rooms in any number of hotels, and there had, therefore, been no reason for them to share a bed or even a room.

Klaus had helped her and the children to their door, carrying not only her bag and his own, but a shoeless Nik as well.  He had ushered them inside and placed both her son and her bag onto one of the queen-sized beds, before excusing himself and making his way to his own room.  She had gone to the door, catching it before it swung all the way closed, and called out to him to thank him.  He’d looked back at her, nodded wordlessly, and then continued down the hall to his room.  She’d watched him place his keycard in the slot in the door, and just as she’d stepped back to go inside her own room, she’d seen him look back one last time.  It was then that she’d caught the look of longing on his face. 

Her heart had ached then, seeing a man that she cared a great deal for…a man who she knew had experienced so much more than his fair share of loss and alienation when it came to family over the years, clearly longing to be a part of a family that she herself could offer him.  If she were brave enough…

But was she?  Could she trust him not to hurt all of them?

She had no doubt that he wanted to spend time with Hope.  They’d gotten along famously since they’d first been reintroduced.  But it didn’t feel like it was just Hope that he wanted.  There’d been a few moments in the hotel the morning after they’d all shared a room where they’d felt like an actual family.  She was doubtful the feeling had been lost on him.  They had been nice, those moments they’d shared…but painful at the same time.  She’d felt like she was catching a glimpse of a beautiful possibility that would probably never be.  The reality was, Hayley would, at least to some capacity, resume her role as Hope’s mother, which meant that whatever the exact outcome, Cami’s relationship with Hope would never be the same.  The other reality was that, despite what she believed, what she felt in her heart, Cami might never be able to convince Klaus that Nik was his son…and if the worst _were_ true, if Nik turned out not to be Klaus’s child…Cami was not so naïve to believe that Klaus would forgive whatever indiscretion he would undoubtedly imagine her to have committed and love her and her son anyway.

She could tell there were parts of him that wanted them...all of them, as a family.  But she wasn’t certain how big of a part of him wanted that…or how conditional that desire was.  She was certain he wanted Hope, and she was certain he had cared about _her_ , at least to some degree, once upon a time…but she had no idea about the rest. 

How _much_ had he cared for her?  Did he still have feelings where she was concerned, other than that of friendship and gratitude to her for caring for his child?  And Nik?  If Nik was not his son, would his interest in them as a family remain intact?  She didn’t know, and at this point, she didn’t think she was brave enough to risk finding out.

She looked out the window, her eyes catching an approaching road sign. 

It read:   _New Orleans    156mi_

They were in the homestretch now, just as Klaus had said.  Soon enough they’d be in New Orleans.  She had a million unanswered questions, but she knew the answers were all waiting for her in the crescent city, in one form or another. 

She found it ironic that she was seeking answers to the most difficult questions of her life in a city nicknamed The Big Easy.

The miles continued to roll by, grassland slowly giving way to swampy bayou country.  Cami stared out the window and waited for the city to overtake them.

Klaus would have preferred to talk in order to pass the time.  While under normal circumstances, that wouldn’t have been the case, he enjoyed Cami’s company, loved the way her mind worked and the way she tended to look at the world from a slightly different angle than everyone else.  Good news for him, since she seemed to see something worthwhile in him that few, if any, had seen before.  Something worth saving, perhaps.

There were moments when she looked at him like he was the answer to some soul-deep question she’d been seeking the answer to her whole life.  Like that night he’d stayed with her…the night before he’d given her his daughter and begged her to keep the girl safe.  That night, she’d looked at him with wide-open eyes that held no secrets, and as he’d looked back at her, he’d realized that those eyes offered as much as they took, revealed as much as they sought.  She had been as bare to him in those moments as anyone had ever allowed themselves to be in his presence.  She had shown him a level of trust that went beyond anything he’d ever known, and he had been profoundly changed.  A thousand years on this dreadful earth, a thousand years of hedonistic affairs and sins of the flesh, and that one encounter had obliterated the memory of every one that had come before it.

And yet, there were moments when she looked at him as though he might suddenly rip out the hearts of her children and eat them in front of her, their blood dripping down his chin, staining the chest of the despicable beast he often thought himself to be. 

He doubted she knew the pain that particular look inflicted on his already damaged psyche.  He would be the first to admit he’d earned that look…that fear, but that didn’t mean it made it any less difficult to endure coming from her.  She’d trusted him before…not to hurt her, physically or emotionally, but with the way things stood now, he could see how things might have changed in her eyes.

He’d left her alone far longer than he’d promised, and in doing so, he’d allowed her to fall in love with a child that wasn’t hers.  He knew Camille had a boundless capacity for love, and it pained him greatly that he had allowed her heart, perhaps the thing he loved most about her, to cause her unfathomable grief.  He had half a mind to take her and the children away with him…to just keep driving and never look back.  He felt certain they could find some modicum of happiness together if they did, but he couldn’t do that to Hope.  She deserved to know Hayley.  He had already robbed her of three years with her mother, though he had, in his opinion, given her the very best mother she could have had, in Hayley’s absence, in the form of Camille. 

But he also couldn’t leave his siblings.  A promise was a promise, and despite where things stood right now between himself and Elijah and Rebekah, the three of them had promised each other years ago…always and forever. 

It was a vow that he had sworn never to break.

And so, despite the fact that going back to New Orleans might mean that Hope would someday grow closer to Hayley than to himself or Camille…and that Camille, the one person who’d ever found the good in him when there was no reason at all for her to search for it, might grow to resent him, hate him even, because of that fact…despite the fact that he might find out for sure what he already knew to be true, that there was no way Camille’s child could be his…despite all those things, he would go back to New Orleans.

He would go back for his family, for his siblings and for his daughter…even if that meant losing everything. 


	9. Family

 

 

Cami’s nerves were shot.

After days of driving and sleeping in roadside motels and being cooped up in a car with Klaus and two cranky children, she was ready to be home.  And therein lay the problem.  She _was_ home…in New Orleans, not in her safe, cozy little cottage on Durnigan Island.  She was excited and relieved to be back in Louisiana, but also tired…and nervous about seeing everyone again.  For the last few years she’d lived blissfully unaware of all things supernatural.  It was a lot to come home to.

Cami held her breath as Klaus led them into the large, open courtyard.  It was late, and everything was dark and quiet.  Coming back here after all that had transpired in recent years was overwhelming to say the least, and her footsteps hesitated just inside the great wooden doors that separated the Mikaelsons’ domain from the rest of the world.

Klaus must have sensed her hesitation because he stopped, abruptly, and turned to face her.  “Cami?” he called, quietly, mindful of the little girl who slept peacefully with her head against his shoulder. 

Cami stared silently back at him, willing her stubborn feet to move. 

After a few seconds, he gave her an encouraging smile and tilted his head in the direction of the main staircase.  _Come on_ , he seemed to say, _I’m with you._ He took a step back toward her and held out his free hand.  Without overthinking it, she shifted Nik’s weight to one side and reached forward, twining her fingers with Klaus’s and allowing him to tug her, gently, forward. 

Just as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Elijah appeared as if from thin air, as Mikaelsons were inclined to do.  He stood, observing them from the landing.

“Niklaus,” he greeted, with a formality that was typical of him.  “I see that you have succeeded in finding Hope and Camille and returning them to our family home.  Rebekah and Freya will be pleased.”  He placed a finger against his lips and tilted his head to the side, eyes falling on Cami and the sleeping boy in her arms.  “However, it appears as though you’ve returned to us with one more than you sent away.”

Klaus dropped Cami’s hand, and under Elijah’s watchful gaze, she suddenly felt abandoned.  A moment later, though, she felt his palm land lightly on the small of her back, and she was able to relax once again.  It was a gesture meant to comfort and support.  She felt both.

“This is my son, Elijah…Dominik.”  Cami’s voice was strong and steady, though she felt herself trembling on the inside.  She wasn’t sure why.  She wasn’t afraid of Elijah.  Perhaps she was just wary of everyone’s reaction to her return, as she was returning with a son no one knew existed.

Elijah raised an eyebrow, and before Cami could blink he was standing before them at the bottom of the stairs.  He looked closely at Dominik’s sleeping face and then back at Cami, before turning to face Klaus.  “Indeed,” he said, cryptically, before turning his attention to Hope.  He caressed the slumbering girl’s hair, lovingly.  “I’m glad to see you all arrived safely.  I’ll leave you now so that you might have a chance to settle in before the Grand Inquisition in the morning.”  At Cami’s startled look, he added, “Rebekah arrived home from parts unknown early this afternoon.  She and Freya can be a formidable duo when they join forces.”  His eyes moved once again to Dominik’s sleeping form.  “I imagine you ladies will have plenty to talk about.”

Cami opened her mouth to reply, but before she could utter a sound, Elijah bid them goodnight with a curt nod and simple, “Klaus, Camille.”  And then he was gone.

“Don’t let my brother unnerve you.  You don’t owe Rebekah or Freya any explanations,” Klaus assured.  “And if either of them crosses the line, I _will_ remind them with whom they’re dealing.”

Cami smiled, nervously.  “I appreciate the support, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Klaus agreed, placing his hand at her back once more and ushering her toward the stairs.  “Let’s get these little ones settled in, shall we?”

Cami reached the landing at the top of the stairs first and turned left toward Hope’s nursery.

“Camille,” Klaus called, softly, stopping her. 

She paused, turning, eyebrows raised in question.

“I uh…” Klaus began.  He looked nervous, which was very unlike him.  “I had some work done in anticipation of your return.” 

He gestured to the right, so Cami followed his lead and moved down the dim hallway in that direction.

They arrived at an intersecting hallway, which had a single door at either end.  Klaus led her toward the one on the left.  He pushed open the heavy, wooden door and revealed a large, classically-decorated room.  A four-poster bed dominated the space, but there was plenty of room for a matching chest of drawers, a chaise lounge and what appeared to be entrances for both a walk-in closet and an en suite bathroom.  The far wall held a set of French doors which opened onto a wide balcony that overlooked the city.

It was a breathtaking view this time of night.

“I hope this room is to your liking,” he said, watching her reaction very carefully.

She drew in a quick breath.  “This is mine?  Klaus, it’s…it’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.”  He seemed relieved.

“Thank you,” Cami said, genuinely touched at his thoughtfulness.  It was a truly beautiful space.

“You are quite welcome,” he said, smiling kindly. 

Cami shifted Nik in her arms, his weight beginning to strain her muscles.

Noticing her discomfort, Klaus gestured to a second set of French doors on the opposite side of the room.  “Come,” he said, moving ahead of her to open the doors.

The curtain-covered, glass doors swung open easily to reveal a large nursery, complete with two tiny beds; one decorated in the vibrant blues and greens of the sea, the other in shades of pink and purple reminiscent of a springtime flower garden. 

She turned to him in shock.  “How did you…?”

“I had the rooms finished before I left for Maine.  It only took a phone call to the local furniture store to do a bit of redecorating in light of the newest addition,” he said, dipping his head toward Nik.  “I hope you don’t mind the little ones sharing a room…”

“No, Klaus, I don’t mind at all.  They’re going to love it…I love it!”  She placed her free hand on his forearm.  “This is amazing.  Thank you!”  She meant it.  She was touched by the thought he’d put into the rooms.  Her bedroom was exactly what she would have picked for herself…and he would know, having spent time in her different homes on more than one occasion.  And the nursery?  It was nothing short of magical.  It reminded her of the story of Peter Pan…a perfect blend of fairy princesses and pirate ships.  The children were going to love it. 

He gestured across the nursery to the side opposite her room.  “And, if you need anything, I’m just through there.” 

She looked to where he had indicated.  A second set of French doors, identical to the ones they’d entered the nursery through, stood on the far wall. 

Oh. 

It occurred to her now that the other door, the one at the other end of the hallway, led to his room. 

To Klaus’s bedroom.

Oh.

“Great!” she said, ignoring the little frissons of nervousness and heat that snaked into her belly at the thought of sleeping so close to Klaus, night after night.  They’d just shared a bed less than forty-eight hours ago, for heaven’s sake, this was far less intimate than that.  And yet, the thought that they had once upon a time shared far more than just a bed, danced around in the back or her mind, and that thought did little to quell her growing unease.  In fact, it had her heart racing because deep down she knew she would love nothing more than to know him like that again.

Cami swallowed, thickly.  “If I need anything, I’ll know where to find you.”  Realizing that she had just repeated him nearly verbatim, she hurried on, nodding toward the sleeping children, “We should probably get them settled in, don’t you think?”

“Of course,” Klaus agreed, smiling amusedly at her obvious discomfort with his proximity.  He understood.  Having her so close every night wasn’t going to be an easy thing for him to adjust to either, but it couldn’t be helped.  He needed to be close to Hope, and Hope needed to be close to Cami.  And, if he was being honest with himself, he needed to be close to Cami as well.  So, they would all just have to make due.

Klaus pulled back the blue and green comforter on one of the child-sized beds and gestured for her to place Dominik against the clean, cotton sheets.  She did so, quickly and efficiently, and then, as Klaus watched, she placed a soft kiss against the apple of the sleeping boy’s rosy cheek and pulled the blankets up around him.

Once she had managed to situate her son, Cami turned and found Klaus watching her with a wistful look on his face.  She found herself wishing for the millionth time that Klaus had had a childhood full of goodnight kisses and bedtime stories, but she knew that was far from the case.  Turning, she pulled back the pink and purple bedspread and then stepped aside to allow Klaus to place Hope amongst the soft bedding.  Cami watched as he gently slipped the girl’s socks from her feet and carefully tucked her legs below the blanket, before tugging it up to her chin, tucking her in, expertly.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” she whispered, surprised.

Klaus rose to his full height and turned to face her.  “When Beks was little, she used to be afraid of the dark,” he said, softly, the pet name falling, unnoticed, from his lips.  “She would ask me to tuck her in.  _Tuck me in tightly, Brother_ , she would say, s _o that the monsters can’t get me._ The irony isn’t lost on me that we became the very thing she feared most.  And I, the one she looked to for protection, perhaps the most monstrous of all.”  He gave a mirthless laugh and dropped his eyes toward the floor. 

“You’re not a monster, Klaus,” she said, softly, into the dimly lit room.  “That’s what you let people see, but…it’s not who you are.   It’s not all of you.”

“You’re not a good judge of character, love,” he scoffed, not swayed by her reassurance.

“Maybe not, but I know what I see when I look at you,” she offered, honestly.

That got his attention.

“What _do_ you see?” he asked, quietly, truly interested in her answer.

She took a step closer to him, ignoring the voice in her head that told her to back away…to stay far, far away from him.

“I see a fiercely protective father, a loyal brother…a man who loves his family above all else.  There’s nothing monstrous about that.”  She thought back to a time when she herself had called him a monster.

_Turns out I have complicated feelings for a monster._

She’d known even then that it wasn’t the truth…or, at least, it wasn’t the whole truth.  Klaus was damaged…but he was still a man.  A man who had been someone’s baby, someone’s sweet little boy.  Esther and Mikael had taken a beautiful and innocent soul and mistreated it and corrupted it to the point that it no longer sought any type of salvation.  Klaus was a wounded soul who felt he didn’t deserve such luxuries as love and loyalty from others.  Afterall, if your own parents can’t provide you with those things, how is a person to trust that anyone else ever will? 

Klaus was not a monster, but Cami was certain that he believed himself to be one.

“Perhaps you see what you want to see?” Klaus shrugged, as if her words had not affected him at all, as if his insides weren’t at this very moment basking in the warmth of her kind words.

“Perhaps,” she acknowledged, giving his word back to him.  “But maybe I just have an outsider’s perspective.  Someone who knows the whole story, but who isn’t a Mikaelson.”

“You are far from being an outsider,” he snorted, dismissively.

“Am I, Klaus?  Because sometimes I think I’m just a girl you met in a bar, who had good enough insight that she became a friend, rather than a meal.”

He looked at her then, startled.  Had she truly failed in all this time to see how he struggled against the depth of his feelings for her?  Did she truly feel as insignificant to him as he felt to nearly everyone in his life?  “Camille, you’re more than a _friend_ to me,” he spat the word out as if it left a sour taste in his mouth.  “You’re my family.”

Cami’s heart seemed to mend and break and mend again in an instant.  She had no reply for the words he’d just spoken.  She knew family was sacred to him, but it was also the thing in this life with the most potential to hurt him.  The fact that he considered her part of his family was both an honor and a responsibility.  She swore in that moment that she would do her best to never cause him unnecessary pain.  With no adequate words coming readily to mind, she opened her arms to him instead.

He only hesitated for the briefest of moments before stepping into her embrace.  Cami wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him tightly, and she felt his arms band low around her waist in response. 

The low-light of the nursery lamp bathed the room in a soft glow.  The clock ticked on the wall.  The children slept.  And Klaus and Cami held on.


	10. Pancakes and Paternity

“Mama?” came a tiny whisper from somewhere in the dark room, followed quickly by the quietest of sniffles and the sound of small footsteps padding hesitantly across the wood floor.  The footsteps stopped at the foot of the large bed that dominated one end of the room.  Blankets shifted as the bed’s sole occupant came awake, abruptly.

Klaus raised up on his elbows, his eyes searching the darkness and quickly finding the source of the sound that had awakened him.  At the foot of his bed stood Dominik, looking small and frightened. 

Klaus sat up in the bed.

“Mama?” whispered Nik, seeming even more hesitant than before.

“No such luck, I’m afraid,” Klaus answered, quietly, apologetically.  “It’s Klaus, Nik…I think you’ve found your way into the wrong room.  Never fear though, your mother is just down the hall.”  Klaus tried to sound reassuring, hoping not to terrify the child. 

Another sniffle sounded at the foot of the bed, and Klaus reached out to the boy.

“Come here,” he said, holding out his hand into the darkness.  After a beat he heard footsteps and felt a small, warm hand slip into his.  “Up you go,” he said, tugging the child up onto the edge of the bed.  “There’s a good lad,” he said, sitting the boy down next to him.  “Now, what has you up prowling the grounds in the middle of the night?”

“The moon,” came the small boy’s sleepy reply. 

In the pale light cast by said moon, Klaus could see the child’s small finger pointing toward the open window.  He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.  The full moon was coming.  In a thousand years he’d grown used to its rhythm to the point that he now gave it little thought, but he remembered the strange pull he’d felt as a boy…the fascination, the drawing-near that he hadn’t understood until much later.  He squeezed Dominik’s shoulder, unconsciously, and thought about what that could mean.

To his surprise, Klaus felt the boy settle in beside him.  He felt the weight of the child’s head as it pressed against his chest, trustingly.

Klaus felt a sudden warmth somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. 

He stayed silent for several minutes, enjoying the unexpected trust the child had bestowed upon him.  Finally, clearing his throat, he asked quietly, “Shall I take you to find your mother?” 

But there was only silence.  Dominik was once again fast asleep.

Deciding against moving him, Klaus reclined, slowly, back into his pillows.  He lay there in the dark for countless minutes, feeling the weight of the boy’s head on his chest and watching its tiny silhouette rise and fall with each of his breaths.

He thought about the boy and himself…and what the probable truth was.  It danced around his consciousness, taunting him. 

He thought about the moon. 

Eventually, he slept.

~*~

“Mommy?”

Cami’s eyes popped open and immediately slammed shut again against the onslaught of bright sunlight.

“Are you awake?” came Hope’s sweet little-girl voice.

Cami smiled sleepily as she sat up in bed, forcing her eyes to open against the sun’s brightness.

“Yep.  I’m up,” she said, yawning and stretching. 

“I can’t find Nik,” Hope fretted.

“What?” Cami came fully awake at that.

“I waked up and he wasn’t there.”

Cami threw back the covers of the large, luxurious bed Klaus had procured for her and pressed her bare feet to the floor.  Cold wood greeted her and she grimaced in response.  Grabbing her robe, she wrapped it quickly around herself and headed toward the nursery.  She’d left the French doors separating the two rooms open last night in case either of the children awakened in the night.  She’d known they would be fearful, waking in the dark to a strange room.

Hope trailed behind her, looking expectantly into the empty nursery, as if her brother might have reappeared in her brief absence.

Cami’s heart leapt into her throat at the sight of two empty beds.  “Nik?” she called out, trying not to panic.

She opened the doors to both the bathroom and the closet and found them dark and empty.  She swallowed down her fear and tried to keep a level head.  Where would he go?

Wordlessly, she turned and reached her arms out to Hope.  Automatically, the girl stepped forward and raised her arms in response.  Cami lifted her easily and settled the girl against her hip.  She patted the child’s small thigh and said, “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”  Cami was certain she was trying to reassure herself as much as she was Hope.

Moving quickly to the opposite side of the room, Cami all but flung open the door to Klaus’s room, his name perched on her lips.

The sound never made it any further than the back of her throat, however.  It wedged there, near the lump that formed at the sight before her.  Her son lay fast asleep in Klaus’s bed, his head resting on Klaus’s chest, his cheek pressed firmly to the spot just over the sleeping man’s heart.

Klaus’s large hand rested against Nik’s back, rising and falling with each of her son’s slow, even breaths.

“There he is!” Hope whispered, excitedly.  “We finded him!  He sleeped with my Daddy!”

“Yep,” Cami agreed, her eyes never leaving the sleeping pair before her.

“Are you okay, Mama?” Hope asked, concern coloring her words.

Cami shook herself out of her temporary daze.  She blinked a couple of times to clear the telltale shine from her eyes.  “I’m fine, baby.  See, I told you we’d find him,” she whispered.  “Let’s let the boys sleep for now though, okay?”

Hope nodded, conspiratorially.

Cami closed the door, quietly, and stepped back into the nursery.  It was still early.  She would take Hope downstairs for some breakfast.  She trusted Klaus to come find her when he and Nik were awake.

She couldn’t get the image of the two of them out of her mind.  If she’d ever had any true doubts about Nik’s paternity, she certainly didn’t anymore. 

In sleep, they shared the same countenance. 

The similarities in their sleeping faces, when presented side by side, were impossible to deny.  Not that she hadn’t already known the truth, anyway.

She was still a bit confused on the _how_ , as she’d thought the “loophole” in Klaus’s ability to father Hope had been that he and Hayley were both werewolves, and that that facet of their beings had somehow allowed them to procreate; however, that clearly was not the case because Cami was painfully human.  And Dominik was most certainly she and Klaus’s son.

She really needed to get in touch with Davina.

But first, she needed to feed her daughter.

“Breakfast?” she asked Hope, eyebrows raised in question.

“Yes!” Hope proclaimed, definitively.

On the way downstairs Cami reflected on the night before. 

Klaus had said he considered her his family.  That meant a great deal to her.  For the first time since he’d come back into her life, she felt like maybe there was hope for something good here.  Maybe Klaus could let go of his demons enough to pursue something real with her, something of substance.  She knew that hoping for a relationship with Klaus, one where he could love her and trust her, was likely to break her heart, but she couldn’t help herself. 

Last night they’d stood in the nursery, holding on to each other until that old familiar warmth began to spread throughout her body.  She’d stood there in his arms reflecting back on the time they’d spent in this house together when Hope was a baby.  They’d been on the verge of something then, she was sure of it…something great that had never quite gotten a chance.  They’d grown so close during that time…close enough that, when faced with separation, they’d acted on those feelings, that closeness.  They’d used physicality to convey the emotions they were not prepared to voice.  She still didn’t feel ready to say out loud exactly what she felt for Klaus, and she knew he was far from ready for that either, but she also didn’t feel prepared to be physically intimate with him again.  For her, at least where Klaus was concerned, there was just too much emotion wrapped up in the act of sex. 

He understood that though.  She knew he did.  Because last night he’d said as much.

“I’m going to go to my room now…and there’s nothing I’d like more than to take you with me,” he’d whispered in her ear as he held her close, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.  “But I know what happens in that room.”

She’d shivvered then, feeling his warm breath wash over her neck.

“I know how maddeningly tender…how deliciously wicked…how gloriously powerful it is,” he’d continued, softly.  He’d pressed his cheek to hers then, his five o’ clock shadow scraping delectably against her delicate skin.  “And I know that neither one of us is ready for that again,” he finished in a breathy half-whisper.  “I don’t think we ever were…”

He’d pressed his lips to her cheek then, before pulling back and looking her straight in the eye.  She’d seen her emotions reflected back at her through his eyes.  Desire.  Uncertainty.

He was right.  She knew he was.  They were nowhere near ready to go there again…had never been ready to begin with.

He’d nodded and squeezed her upper arms affectionately before taking a large step back from her.  He’d given one last long look at the sleeping children and left the nursery.  He had walked out again, but this time was different.  It didn’t feel like he’d bolted away from her.  There had been a discussion of sorts…a decision. 

It felt like a small victory.

Unfortunately, not being emotionally ready for something did not mean you stopped wanting it.

She’d gone to her room alone, her body still thrumming from the time spent in Klaus’s embrace.

She wasn’t so naive as to mistake sex for love…but she knew that what she and Klaus shared physically was not the simple act of sex either.  She’d had _sex_ before, good sex, _great_ sex even, but what she and Klaus had together went far beyond any other sexual or emotional experience she’d ever had.  She hadn’t known something like that existed, but as much as she craved it…it was terrifying at the same time.  In any case, she was grateful Klaus had pulled away the night before, because she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to…and that’s what scared her the most.  Because until she knew where things were going between the two of them, she had to protect her heart as best she could.  Whether he knew it or not, Klaus had the power to decimate her, and she couldn’t let that happen…

Cami rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped short.  There sat Rebekah and Freya, having coffee and bagels. 

“Good morning, loves!” chirped Rebekah, cheerfully.  Cami must have looked stricken, because Rebekah rose from her seat and came toward them, placing a hand on her shoulder.  “It’s nice to see you, Cami,” she said, sincerely.  “And _you_ ,” she said, enthusiastically, addressing Hope.  “You are _so_ big!”

Hope buried her face in Cami’s neck and peeked up at Rebekah through the veil of her honey blonde hair.  “Aww…don’t be frightened, darling,” Rebekah cooed, softly.  “I’m your Aunty Beks,” she said, smiling. 

Cami noticed that the smile didn’t quite reach Rebekah’s eyes, and she realized for the first time that Rebekah, more than anyone, would be able to understand her sense of loss at coming back here.  After all, Rebekah had spent the first few months of the Hope’s life caring for her before being summoned back here to hand the child over as if that time had never happened, as if it wouldn’t break her heart.

Cami angled her face toward Hope’s ear and stage whispered, “Did you know that your Aunty Beks makes the world’s _best_ chocolate chip pancakes?”

Hope gave Rebekah side-eyes.  “She does?” the little girl asked, skeptically.

“She does,” Cami confirmed.  “In fact, I got my recipe from her.”  It was true.  Ages ago, during the time that Cami had stayed out at the old plantation house, Rebekah had once helped her pass an afternoon by teaching her ‘Rebekah Mikaelson’s Secret To The Perfect Pancake’.  The secret ended up being real butter and the _perfect_ griddle temperature.  It had been a fun day, and the art of pancake making had come in handy to Cami in the years since.

Hope raised her head up off of Cami’s shoulder.

“Would you like to help me make some right now?” Rebekah asked, temptingly.

The little girl hesitated, clinging to Cami a little tighter. 

“Your Mum and Aunty Freya can help us,” Rebekah suggested, gesturing to the two women in turn. 

Hope glanced at Freya, who grinned and gave a friendly wave.  Then she looked back at Rebekah and said, “Okay, but I get to crack the eggs.”

“Absolutely!” Rebekah agreed, laughing.

Cami sat Hope up on a barstool near the kitchen counter as Rebekah began pulling bowls and measuring utensils out of the cabinets.  As she headed to the refrigerator to pull out the necessary ingredients, Rebekah caught her eye and smiled gratefully. 

 _Thank you_ , she mouthed.

Cami nodded her acknowledgement.

Freya grabbed all of the necessary dry ingredients from the pantry and the four of them set about making a batch of the world’s best chocolate chip pancakes.

~*~

When Klaus entered the kitchen, thirty minutes later, the scene had changed dramatically.

The open kitchen, which had been a tension-filled environment only half an hour before, was now filled with music and laughter and the delicious smell of perfectly grilled chocolate chip pancakes.  Music was wafting from the stereo in the next room and all four of the females at the kitchen counter had either flour or pancake batter somewhere on their person.  Hope and Freya sat at the breakfast bar chewing happily on golden pancakes, whilst Rebekah manned the griddle, adding even more of the fluffy discs to the ever-growing pile to her right.  His eyes landed on Camille.  She stood, leaning against the counter, enjoying a cup of coffee.  The sun shined through the window behind her and bathed her in soft, morning light, causing her skin and hair to take on a golden glow.  She was laughing at something Rebekah had said just before he’d rounded the corner, and she was beautiful.

She must have sensed him watching her because suddenly her eyes found his.

“Klaus,” she said, surprise coloring her voice.

“Mama!”  Nik exclaimed, beaming.

“Hi baby,” Cami replied, moving toward the duo.

“Mama?” Rebekah echoed, eyes moving questioningly between the small boy and Cami.

“Yes,” Cami smiled, nervously.  “Rebekah, Freya…this is my son, Dominik.”

“ _Really?_ ” Rebekah replied, rhetorically, her eyes settling on her brother and the young boy in his arms. 

A young boy who bore a striking resemblance to her brother at that age.

Klaus stood in the doorway, holding Nik against his chest with one strong arm.  They were both still in their sleepwear, Nik in a pair of green and white super hero pajamas and Klaus in a pair of cream-colored, low-slung cotton pajama pants.  They sported matching bedhead.

“Nik?” Rebekah asked, casually, preparing to launch into a series of questions regarding his whereabouts about nine months prior to the arrival of the child in his arms.

“What?” both man and child answered in unison.

Klaus and Nik looked at each other, equally baffled.

“I Nik, you Kaus,” Nik pointed out to him, as though Klaus might have forgotten his own name.

Cami looked at the floor and bit the inside of her cheek, trying hard not to smile.

“Nevermind, Brother,” Rebekah replied, eyes narrowing in thought.  “You have things under control here, right?” she asked, pausing to remove the last of the pancakes from the griddle and switch it off.  Turning her attention to Cami, she said, “Care to have a chat?”

“Rebekah,” Klaus warned, in a low voice.

“Oh, bugger off, Nik—not you, sweetie,” she caught her near-mistake, smiled at the toddler, and then waved a hand dismissively at her brother.  “I only want to have a quick chat with the mother of my brother’s child…” she trailed off cryptically, looking pointedly at said child.

Only she wasn’t looking at Hope, she was looking directly at Dominik.

 

 


	11. If You Give A Kid A Castle

 

 

Cami spilled the entire story to Rebekah in one long run-on sentence, the details flowing out of her in one giant wave of relief. 

Turns out she’d needed to talk to someone more than she’d realized. 

Ironically, as someone trained in psychology, she’d failed miserably to see her own need to vent her emotions.  After pausing to sip the coffee Rebekah had wordlessly pressed into her hands, she laughed nervously, realizing she’d been babbling non-stop for the past twenty minutes.

Rebekah narrowed her eyes and sighed.  “He’s scared,” she said, shaking her head.

“Klaus?” Cami asked, doubtfully.

“Yes,” Rebekah replied, firmly.  “Nik is at times arrogant and brash, but he can also be quite broody and insecure; never moreso than when it comes to family.  No matter how hard we try, how much we love him, he never fully trusts our loyalty to him.”  She pauses thoughtfully, and then continues, softly, “It’s heartbreaking, really…and exhausting.”

Cami knew that to be true.  She’d seen inside Klaus’s mind…knew more than anyone how he saw himself, how he perceived others’ views of him.

“But as much as he doubts our family’s love for him…it’s the only thing that truly keeps him going.  His love for Hope and hers for him is the most important thing in his life.  And he has no particular connection to Haley, but you…I told you years ago he fancies you.  I think it’s more than that now though.  My brother has a surprisingly immense capacity for love, if he’ll only surrender himself to it.  I think he loves you, in his way…despite his best efforts to pretend he doesn’t.  I think it probably terrifies him that the two of you might share a child together.”

Cami closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to form.  “If that were true…if he,” she paused, unable to say the word “love” out loud to Rebekah, “If he has feelings for me,” she said, instead, “Shouldn’t he be happy that Nik is his son?”

“If he were a normal person, yes,” Rebekah said, dryly.  “But you’re dealing with Klaus here, love.  Reason and logic do not apply.”

Cami nodded, unsure what to say.  What Rebekah was saying made sense, and it wasn’t as if she hadn’t come to a similar conclusion, herself.  But then what was the answer?

“If it’s any consolation, I think he’ll come around,” Rebekah offered.  “That kid is gorgeous, and Nik already seems to have taken a liking to him.”

“You believe me though?” Cami asked.  “That Dominik is Klaus’s son?”

“Darling, that child looks the spitting image of my brother at that age.  I had no doubt from the moment I saw him…I just don’t know how it’s possible.”

At that, Cami had a thought.  “Listen…I know you and Davina are not on the best of terms since she left you bound to Klaus and sleeping indefinitely not so long ago, but do you think you can help me find her?”

“I am the last person in the world to keep tabs on that wretched girl,” Rebekah sniffed, indignantly.

“I know, but…I think you have some sway with someone who would know how to find her,” Cami hinted.

“If you mean Marcel, I haven’t been in contact with him recently either,” the other woman answered, dismissively.  Her feigned disinterest somewhat unconvincing.

“But you know how to reach him,” Cami guessed.  “Please?  Rebekah, I _need_ to talk to Davina.  She’s the only person I can think of who might be able to tell me how this happened, how my son came to be.  Please, Rebekah,” Cami pleaded.

“Oh, fine,” Rebekah relented, exasperatedly.  “But you owe me for this.”

~*~

Several days later Cami was spending a quiet morning in the garden with the children.  Klaus had ordered them a massive, wooden swing set that was shaped like a castle and featured two turrets and a fully-operational drawbridge.  Cami had drawn the line when he suggested they have a small moat dug for the drawbridge to open over.  He’d argued that the children would spend most of their time inside the safety of the compound walls and would need fun activities to keep them entertained.  She had countered that a water hazard deep enough for a small child to drown in, while likely to keep them entertained, was unlikely to keep them safe.  She’d felt a prick of remorse as she’d watched his skin turn slightly ashen at her words.  He’d conceded, and they’d ended up compromising by going ahead with the moat, but filling it with a foot and a half of sand, rather than water.

The kids had been duly impressed with Klaus’s gift and had spent every subsequent free moment swinging, sliding and climbing on the massive structure.

“That’s my girl!” Klaus called, as he entered the yard through the old, wrought iron gate, its groan announcing his presence seconds before his voice did.  “Storming the castle like the finest knight!”

“I’m a princess, Daddy, not a knight!” Hope laughed.

“Of course,” he nodded, smiling up at her, where she stood perched in one of the turrets.  “I stand corrected.  You are, obviously, the most beautiful princess in all the land, but you are also as brave as any knight…are you not?”

“I’m brave!” She called, smiling.  “See?” she asked, demonstrating said bravery by sliding down the fireman’s pole inside the turret, landing safely in the sand below.  Once she reached the bottom, she trudged through the sand-filled moat and sprinted across the yard, flinging herself into Klaus’s waiting arms.

He swept her up easily, holding her against his broad chest and smiling into her sweet face.  “My brave girl,” he said, softly, proudly, before pressing his lips to her cheek.  His eyes met Cami’s over the little girl’s shoulder, his words causing her heart to flutter.  They were so similar to the ones he’d spoken to her.

_My brave bartender._

Hope beamed and returned her father’s gesture, placing her small hands on either of his cheeks and pressing her lips, sweetly, against the left one.  She squealed in surprised delight at the feel of his stubble against her face.  “You’re scratchy and tickly, Daddy.”

“Shall I shave it off?” Klaus asked, grinning at his daughter’s scrunched-up nose.

She shook her head, rubbing her hands along his jawline.  “Nope, it’s handsome.”

He threw his head back and laughed at that, before leaning down to place Hope back on her feet.  “It is?  Well, I’d better leave it then, hadn’t I?”

Hope nodded, sprinting back toward the castle, stopping along the way to help Nik down from the bottom rung of the climbing wall.  Hand in hand, they raced toward the wide, metal slide and began to climb backwards up the shiny slope.

Klaus joined Cami where she sat on an old wooden porch swing.  It was suspended from the sturdy branch of an aging but solid weeping willow.  He didn’t say anything, just placed his arm along the back of the swing and gave them a gentle shove with his feet.  Her own feet dangled inches above the earth and she allowed him to set their pace.  The swing gained slight momentum and she relaxed, watching the children play and allowing herself to be lulled by the swing’s gentle rhythm.

For several minutes, neither of them said anything, they just sat, enjoying the quiet moment.  After some time had passed, Klaus sighed deeply and turned to face her.  Cami saw him looking at her out of the corner of his eye.  He wore a concerned look, and her heart sped up a little in anticipation of his words.  He was worried about something.

“What is it?” she finally asked, turning to look at him.

He took her left hand, gently, in his and said, “You know the full moon is at the end of the week, right?”

Her heart stopped, briefly, and then managed, after a few skipped beats, to start once again.  “Yes, I know.”

“You know what that means?” he asked, concern coloring his words.

She tried to curb her anger.  It wasn’t Klaus’s fault…totally.  “Yes, I know what that means.  Hayley will be coming.”

“It means we need to think about how we’re going to bring this subject up to Hope.”

She looked at him, fear coloring her eyes.  “I don’t…Klaus, I don’t know if I can…”

He let go of her hand and placed his palm on her thigh, squeezing encouragingly.  “We’ll figure it out, okay?” he said, attempting to comfort her.  “Besides, it’s just for a day.  Nothing’s going to change right now.  We don’t have to tell her everything at once, but we do need to prepare her for Hayley’s arrival because I’m sure she’ll want to see Hope as soon as possible, and I’m not naïve enough to believe that she hasn’t already gotten word of your return.”

Cami nodded, wordlessly, struggling to keep her composure.  Talking about this was hard.

“Hey,” he said, softly, moving his arm from the back of the swing and wrapping it around her shoulders, “It’s only one day, love.  And then Hayley will be gone and we’ll have another month to figure out all of the details.  I just wanted to make sure that you realized it’s coming up soon, and that you and I are on the same page.  If we’re a united front, then Hope will be fine, we’ll see to it, right?”

She wasn’t sure if that last bit was meant to reassure her or him, but she nodded her agreement, nonetheless.

He nodded and pulled her close, pressing his lips into her hair, comfortingly.  Keeping his arm around her, he settled them back against the swing and turned to watch the children play.  It was a quiet moment, a family moment, not unlike the one at the hotel the week before.  It seemed odd that only a week had passed.  So much had changed.  It seemed a lifetime had passed since he’d found Cami and the children living on that tiny, Maine island.  It was unfathomable to him how quickly a person, or persons, as was the case here, could become the center of a man’s universe.

Cami watched the children closely, the mother in her ready to intervene at a moment’s notice; her eyes, watching for potential dangers, her ears listening for cries of distress.  For the moment, though, her children were happy and carefree.  She sighed, contentedly, and rested her head against Klaus’s shoulder. 

As she watched, Hope stood on the platform at the top of the metal slide and reached down to pull her brother the rest of the way to “safety”, Nik’s clumsy toddler steps made sure by his sister’s helping hand.  Once they were both standing on the platform at the top of the slide, Hope called out, proudly, “Daddy, look!  Look, Daddy!”

“Look, Daddy!” Nik squealed, as well, gazing adoringly at Klaus.

Cami’s heart froze mid-beat.  She looked up at Klaus with wide eyes, paralyzed by shock and fear; shock that, unprompted, her son was calling Klaus _Daddy_ and fear at how Klaus would respond.  She didn’t know why she was surprised…Nik picked up on everything, and Hope had been calling Klaus _Daddy_ for days now. 

She braced herself and waited to see how the moment would play out.

Klaus stiffened.  He felt as though someone had thrown ice-cold water over him.  He sat, shocked and trembling, as the boy’s innocent words dripped down his spine, soaking into his skin, all the way to the bone. 

_Look, Daddy!_

Daddy.

He looked, sharply, at the boy and watched as the child stilled in fear, and the sweet, innocent smile slipped from his face. 

In response, something twisted deep in Klaus’s gut. 

Several seconds passed in which none of them moved, and then, miraculously, as if the words really had been made of water, they began to warm against his skin, to soak into his pores and become a part of him…

He looked at Cami, saw the look of terror in her eyes, and he looked at the boy, quiet now, uncertain if he’d said or done something wrong.  He felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach at having caused the boy to lose his smile, to feel uncertain.  He wanted, more than anything, in that moment, to put the smile back on the child’s face, the trust back in his eyes.  He wanted Dominik to trust him…to love him.

He wanted Dominik to be his son.

He realized, in that moment, that Nik _was_ his son…in all the ways that mattered.  He knew…he _knew_ , just as he had known with Marcellus.  But this time, he was even more sure. 

He had a connection to this boy, a bond.  He was Camille’s child, Hope’s brother…an innocent, fatherless little boy.  No matter if he found out differently or not, Klaus knew his feelings for the boy would remain unaltered.  Dominik, from now on, was _his_ son. 

There was a freedom in the decision.  The act of _choosing_ to be Dominik’s father, regardless of DNA, alleviated the fear he had about losing the boy if he turned out not to be his biological son.  Choosing to take responsibility for him and parent him, regardless of genetics, allowed him to love the boy without restraint, without fear of losing him. 

He looked at Camille.  She wanted so badly for him to be Dominik’s father, to accept that he was, he could see it so clearly in her eyes.  Regardless of how it had happened, the only way he would ever _not_ be this boy’s father, was if he chose to walk away from him…if he chose to deny him.

It was a revelation, and it allowed him to look upon the child with fresh eyes.

He saw himself in the boy, saw the hope in his eyes as he attempted to make the man he knew as father proud…just as Klaus, as a young boy, had tried desperately to please Mikael.  He saw Cami in Nik’s wide beautiful eyes, her innocence and her joy.  And, when he was doing a bit of wishful thinking, perhaps he even caught a glimpse of himself just _there_ , around the mouth.

Slowly, Klaus’s lips slid into a wide smile. 

He removed his arm from Camille’s shoulders and leaned forward in the swing, placing his elbows on his knees and giving the boy his undivided attention.

“Well done, son!” he called, smiling, broadly.

Nik beamed, proudly, and Klaus rose on sure legs.  In four long strides he was at the base of the slide.  He opened his arms wide and smiled up at the kids.  “Come on then, loves,” he called, motioning for them to slide down to him, “Daddy will catch you!”

Squealing with joy, the children hurled themselves onto the slide and flew down the shiny metallic surface into Klaus’s waiting arms.  “My brave princess and my noble knight,” he smiled, kissing the crowns of both tiny heads.

Klaus heard Cami’s sharp, indrawn breath, and looked back at her, meeting her gaze.

He watched the muscles in her throat work and knew she was struggling to keep her emotions in check.  He could tell she was trying to get words out, but they weren’t making it past the lump in her throat.  It didn’t matter, he could see the sentiment clearly in her shimmering blue eyes.

He smiled, reassuringly, and hoisted Hope and Nik into his arms, one child hanging like a sack of potatoes from either arm.  The kids laughed, gleefully, suspended by their waists, their arms and legs dangling several feet above the ground below.

Through a sheen of tears, Cami smiled back at him.

Laughing happily, he gave their children his full attention, twirling until his ears were filled with nothing but the sound of their happy shrieks and Cami’s contented laughter.


	12. King of All Wild Things

 

 

Cami’s voice shook.  “So Nik will be a…”

“A werewolf,” Davina confirmed.  “But only if he triggers the curse.”

Cami took a deep breath.  She hadn’t been prepared for that eventuality.  Dominik was just a little boy, an ordinary human boy whom she’d assumed would one day be an ordinary man.

An ordinary human boy…  _Just like Klaus had been once upon a time._

Cami’s eyes moved to Klaus, who sat dominating the back half of the room, filling it with his brooding presence.  He’d gone silent after Davina had answered their most important question…

Nik was indeed Klaus’s biological son.

After Rebekah had convinced Marcel to give Cami Davina’s location, Cami had decided she needed to go see the girl immediately.  Of course, once Klaus learned of her plans he’d insisted upon going with her.  Cami had cautioned that Davina might be less inclined to help, should Klaus come along, to which he’d replied that he was sure he could easily remind the girl how much she still owed him after her neat little daggering trick that had cost him years with his family.  The look on his face had left little room for argument and, presumably, Davina had realized the same, as the girl put up little resistance when Cami and Klaus arrived seeking answers regarding Dominik’s parentage.  The young witch had dutifully performed a spell involving a lock of Nik’s hair and a drop of both Cami and Klaus’s blood.  When it was over, Davina’s face had softened, and she’d looked directly at Cami and said, “Your son…is Klaus’s son.”

Cami’s body had sagged against Klaus’s with relief, and he had supported her until she regained her footing.  He’d moved away from her then, holding her at arm’s length for several seconds before leaning down and brushing his lips across her forehead.  Then he had retreated to the far corner of the room while Davina began to sort out how he and Cami had managed to conceive a child.

Hours later, long after the sun had slipped from the sky…after sifting through countless heavy, old books that smelled of things Cami was loathe to imagine and listening as both she and Klaus recounted the where and when of Dominik’s conception, Davina was finally able to give them the answers they’d been looking for.  Cami still didn’t have it all straight in her mind though.

“So, Dominik is our son, but…explain to me again how he isn’t a hybrid then?” Cami implored, brow furrowed.

“It’s really quite simple now that I think about it,” Davina answered.  “Not that I ever had reason to think about it before…I don’t think anyone could have foreseen this happening,” she said, looking disbelievingly at Cami.

At Davina’s look, Cami sighed and said quietly, mindful of Klaus’s presence in the room, “Don’t judge me, Davina…you don’t know him like I do.”

“Klaus Mikaelson is pretty much the bane of my existence, so yeah…I think it’s a safe bet I’ll _never_ know him like that,” Davina whispered, clearly repulsed by the idea of any intimate knowledge of Klaus.

Klaus cleared his throat, loudly.  “Don’t lower your voices on my account, ladies…I _can_ still hear you, after all.”

Cami colored at the knowledge that he’d heard her words.  Ignoring the warmth in her cheeks, she focused on Davina.  “Please, Davina,” she begged, “My son…”

Davina sighed. 

“Okay, fine.  When you and Klaus…when you two, um…did what you did,” Davina stumbled, clearly uncomfortable talking about Cami and Klaus’s intimate night together with the two of them in the room.  “You were in the safe place that I created, a place where magic was void.  So, when your son was conceived, there was no magic.  Now, we all know that vampires can’t procreate, and for any other vampire being in the void would simply mean that their vampire curse would be weakened, suppressed, leaving only their human side, which is technically dead and therefore also unable to procreate.  But Klaus…”

“Is a hybrid,” Cami interjected, nodding her understanding.

“Exactly.  So, even though Klaus was still a vampire inside that space, the curse itself was in a weakened state, unable to pass on to another person.  But unlike any other vampire, in Klaus’s case, because he’s a hybrid, suppressing his vampire curse simply allowed the werewolf part of him to become dominant…and werewolves, obviously, are able to procreate just fine,” Davina finished, still squirming slightly due to the nature of the conversation.

“But how could the werewolf curse pass on to Nik when the vampire curse couldn’t?”

“Because being a werewolf isn’t a _curse_ per se.  I mean, yes, once upon a time, it was, but now…your son was _conceived_ a werewolf.  He inherited a gene from his father, just like inheriting blond hair, or green eyes…or a bad attitude,” Davina tossed the last bit, pointedly, in Klaus’s general direction.

Before he could respond, Cami said, “So, the vampire curse was suppressed and couldn’t pass on to Nik, but because being a werewolf is genetic, that would pass to him…so Dominik will be a werewolf, but not a hybrid like Klaus?”

“Yes, if he--”

“If he triggers the curse, yeah, I got it.”  Cami pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes until she began to see stars.

“Cami,” Davina said, gently, “This could protect him.  He’ll be strong…less vulnerable.”

Klaus moved toward Cami, and Davina stepped away, moving deeper into the recesses of the room.

Cami felt gentle fingers encircling her wrists, and she allowed her hands to be pulled down, away from her face.  When they reached her sides, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into Klaus’s serious, blue-green gaze.  “Our son will be fine,” he said, quietly. And then, more intensely, “I promise.”

She didn’t know if everything would be fine or not, but knowing that she wouldn’t be bearing the burden alone was more reassuring than he could know.  And knowing that he’d made the decision to share that burden with her before they’d gotten their answers here today meant more to her than she would probably ever be able to express to him.

“Come on, love,” he said, softly, his lips quirking slightly to one side in a playful smirk that was so deliciously, uniquely him.  “Let’s go tuck our little ones in for the night.”

~*~

“And Max, the king of all wild things, was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all.”  Klaus’s voice drifted into her room from the nursery.  Cami rolled onto her side and watched as he helped Nik turn the page, watched their son’s chubby baby fingers stick to the thick paper as it bent and then snapped free, falling aside and revealing the next magical illustration.  Her eyes drifted over her son’s drooping lids, her daughter’s already sleeping countenance, and her…

She raised up on her elbow…what was he, exactly? 

He must have sensed her movement because his eyes immediately found hers.  He stopped reading and held her gaze.

She lay there on her bed, watching him watch her for countless seconds.  It wasn’t until Nik’s sleepy head bobbed forward, nearly landing in the pages of his storybook, that the spell was broken.  Klaus’s quick reflexes had allowed him to catch his son’s tiny head in the palm of his hand, and he smiled softly as he slipped off of the toddler’s bed and arranged the boy comfortably amongst the soft quilt and pillows.

Cami watched as he pressed his lips to the forehead of both his son and daughter before reaching over to switch off the lamp, plunging the room into near total darkness.  She heard him rise and move away from the children’s beds, but her heart rate picked up speed when his footsteps began to move toward her instead of toward his own room.

By the light of the moon, she watched his silhouette approach.  When he reached the side of her bed, she remained silent, merely staring up at him and listening to the sound of their combined breaths in the dark.

“May I?” he asked, softly.

Mutely, she shifted her weight toward the middle of the bed, allowing him room on the soft mattress.

Permission granted.

Though, for what, she wasn’t sure.

She felt the bed dip as his weight settled in next to hers.  She lay on her side still, facing him, his hip pressed against the front of her thighs.  It was the most intimate contact they’d had since _that night_ and she shivered in response. 

“I wanted to apologize to you,” she heard his voice rasp, quietly, from somewhere above her.

“For what?” she asked, truly at a loss.  It had been a good day.  A great day.

“For taking too long to find you.”

_Oh._

“For not being there,” he sighed.  “For missing everything.”

Pain lanced at her heart, for her, for the kids…but mostly for him.  “Klaus,” she started, but then broke off abruptly when she felt his hand land on the soft curve of her lower abdomen.  She said nothing, merely tried to control her breathing and her racing heart.  She stared hard into the darkness, trying desperately to see his face, her pupils dilating ever wider in an attempt to make his features clear to her.

He moved his hand up, sliding the material of her t-shirt with it, then slowly, his hand moved back down to press against her warm, bare skin.  “Klaus…” she whispered, in warning. 

His fingers pressed firmly into her skin, as if seeking something.

“He was right here…” he whispered.

Her eyes stung with tears.  She could picture his face, though he remained hidden in the dark, the pained expression she would surely find if the room were to be suddenly lit.  She could hear the thickness in his voice and could imagine the shine of tears in his eyes as he contemplated missing out on her pregnancy, on the first years of his son’s life.

“Klaus,” she tried again, placing her hand over his, cradling his warm palm against the place where he’d once created life within her.  “You’re here now.”

No longer able to resist the pull of him, Cami sat up in bed, moving onto her knees and stopping when they were face to face in the darkness.

He could hear her heart beat, taste her warm, moist breath as it rushed across his parted lips.  He wondered if she could hear his heart, too…it seemed to him it beat every bit as franticly as hers.  She opened her mouth to say something, and he was lost.  He launched himself into her and attacked her lips with an intensity he feared might frighten her.  He knew they weren’t ready, but he just needed her.

Cami braced herself just in time to keep from toppling over on the bed.  She brought her hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks, and feeling the delicious scrape of his stubble against her palms as he moved his lips over hers.  She gasped into his mouth as he sucked her bottom lip between his, kneading it with his teeth and then soothing her delicate flesh with the soft, wet heat of his tongue.

His hands moved over the curves of her hips, resting there for a moment, memorizing the dip of her waist and the sharpness of her hipbones.  They slipped beneath her t-shirt, mapping the bare skin of her back, tracing over her vertebra from nape to tailbone.  They followed the line of her ribs from back to front and then slowly re-discovered the gentle swell of her breasts.

Cami was breathing harshly.  Klaus was wreaking havoc on her senses.  She could only hear _him_ , taste _him_ , feel _him_ …  His tongue was telling her body secrets she didn’t understand, but she wanted to, desperately.  It was only when his palms slipped into the warm, sensitive curves of her underarms and lifted her up that the tiniest of alarm bells started going off in her head.  She didn’t want to hear them, so she kept her body pliant and moved as his body commanded.  However, when he settled her back against him and she found herself straddling his lap she knew she’d better heed the warning soon or it would be entirely too late.  Unable to help herself, she rocked her hips forward and back, just once, and moaned softly at the feel of him pressed against her right where she so desperately wanted him to be, but then she pulled her lips away from his, causing a quiet smacking sound to echo in the otherwise quiet room.

Klaus was so aroused he could hardly think straight, his hands tugged at her hips and pressed her pelvis against him, grinding her pubis down against his.  Her hot breath hit him in the face as she gasped in response.  “Klaus,” she breathed.  “We have to stop.  The kids…”  He listened as she struggled to catch her breath.  He didn’t want to hear what she was saying, but he did.  “The kids are right in there…we can’t do this, not here.”

She pressed her forehead against his, and they both sat there catching their breath. 

He removed his hands from the inside of her clothes, but then placed his hand on her back, running it up and down the length of her spine, soothingly.  It was a rhythmic movement and, slowly, they both began to match their breathing to its cadence.  Slowing, slowing…until they were both breathing near normally again.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, softly, mindful of the open nursery door and the sleeping children beyond.

His head snapped up.  “Don’t be sorry.  Not for this.  I’m not.”

She smiled in the darkness.  “I meant, I’m sorry that I stopped us.”

“Oh, yes, well, for that you should be sorry,” he teased. 

“Aww…” she laughed, quietly, good-naturedly. 

She shifted on his lap, attempting to separate their lower bodies a little bit, and he hissed in response, “Careful, love.”

“Sorry,” she apologized again, as she tried to move off of his lap as gracefully as the situation would allow. 

As she settled back against the pillows near the headboard, he started to move to the edge of the bed.  “You don’t have to go,” she offered, almost timidly.  “I mean…we can’t…finish what we started, but…you could stay,” she finally got out.  “If you want...”

He reached out and stroked his thumb against her cheek.  “Oh, love…I want.  But it would be a bad idea.”

She nodded in the darkness.  She knew he was right.  She didn’t trust him to stop them…and she trusted herself even less.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers one last time, briefly but firmly.  “But at some point…we _will_ finish what we started.”  And with that, he rose to his feet and strode quietly toward his own room.  “Goodnight, Camille,” he called, softly, as he left her room.

As she watched his shadow fade into the dark opening of his own bedroom doorway, a line from the book he’d been reading the children drifted into her consciousness…

_“But the wild things cried, “Oh please don't go- We'll eat you up- we love you so!”_

“Goodnight, Klaus,” she whispered in reply.


	13. Cardio and Other Catastrophes

 

 

Klaus followed the deep sound of pumping bass to the upstairs parlor.  He’d seen neither hide nor hair of the ladies of the house all morning, and the children had been mysteriously absent as well.  Pushing open the glass-paned French doors at the top of the staircase, he was greeted with a blast of driving treble and pulsing drum beats.  Surprised, he turned his head to the left, searching for the source of the sound, and came to an abrupt halt.  The women had obviously set up some sort of impromptu work-out studio in the space that Rebekah had used to practice ballet years before.  The mirrored wall and ballet bar remained in place, even after all the time that had passed since its last use.  A woman he didn’t recognize stood facing Rebekah, Freya, and Cami, calling directions out over the loud music.  Peripherally, he sensed that the children were dancing to their own wild rhythm in a far corner of the room, but he was utterly unable to remove his eyes from Camille.

She wore a pale pink tank top over a black sports bra and matching black leggings.  The tank top was loose, but ended at her hips, leaving her perfectly-rounded backside covered in nothing but a thin layer of form-fitting cotton. 

“Two more sets ladies,” the instructor called.  “And…one, two, three, and four,” she counted off.

The three of them moved in tandem, but Camille may as well have been alone in the room.  She swiveled her hips from right to left, her calves flexing as she rose up on her toes and bent forward, arching her back provocatively as she allowed her upper body to fall slowly toward the floor.  He watched as, palms to the solid hardwood, she paused, elongating her back and stretching the muscles along the backs of her thighs until they were rigid and tight, like bowstrings waiting to be plucked.

At the precise moment his eyes were feasting on the glorious sight before him, his consciousness finally took in the lyrics of the song, and his entire body tightened in response.

_I know you want it in the worst way, I wanna hear you calling my name…_

“And grill,” called the petite trainer over the provocative lyrics.

Rising to a fully-upright position, Cami pressed her hands lightly to the outside of her ribs, just below the swell of her breasts.  He watched her head dip down, her chest push forward and then back.  Guided by the downward slide of her hands, her abdomen and hips followed suit in a gentle wave that seemed to roll down her body from her shoulders to her feet.

Klaus widened his stance, shifting himself in jeans that had become suddenly, uncomfortably snug.

Just as he was beginning to feel like a voyeur, the women turned, all three spotting him at the same time.  Freya grinned sheepishly and shrugged, turning back to the instructor and finishing her eight-count.  The other two stopped and stood staring at him, Cami looking mortified and Rebekah wearing a knowing smirk.

“See something you like, Brother?” she teased, flicking her eyes to Cami, whose rosy cheeks had grown decidedly darker in the last few seconds.

Annoyed at being caught lurking, Klaus narrowed his eyes.  “You know you _are_ an original vampire…cardio is really not necessary.”

“Ah, yes, but this was a special request, Niklaus,” she said, batting her lashes, sweetly.  “My dear sweet Cami seems to have some excess energy that she just can’t figure out how to get rid of,” she shrugged, smiling innocently, as she glanced back and forth between the two of them.

He watched Cami swing wide eyes to Rebekah, eyes that seemed to beg for her silence.

His momentary embarrassment at being caught staring melted away in light of Cami’s obvious discomfort.

“Camille doesn’t need cardio either.  She’s lovely, just as she is.”  He caught her eye, making sure she knew he sincerely meant what he said, before looking away.  “Right, Hope?” he asked, purposefully diffusing the situation by drawing the child into the conversation.

“What Daddy?” the pixie-like child asked as she skipped over to his side, followed, moments later, by her younger brother.

“I said, your mother is quite beautiful, don’t you agree?”

“Yeah!” Hope squealed her agreement, flinging herself forward against Cami’s legs.

Cami laughed, lifting the girl into her arms and looking up at him.  “Thank you, both,” she said, hugging Hope to her, though her eyes never left Klaus’s.  “However, _I_ am not a v--,” she stopped, glancing down at Hope.  “I am not a very athletic person,” she finished, not ready to explain the whole “vampire” thing to her four-year-old quite yet.  “So,” she continued, “I need to make it a point to get in some exercise from time to time, so that I can stay healthy.”  _And sane_ , her mind supplied, helpfully.

“Well, if that’s the case, I could help you out with some pretty intense cardio anytime you’re in need of a little…exercise,” Klaus offered, cheekily.

A snort came from the front of the room where Freya was helping Rebekah roll up and stow what looked to be multi-colored yoga mats.  He couldn’t be sure which of them had made the noise, but he had his suspicions.  Regardless, he glared at them both, menacingly.  Rebekah ignored him, instead focusing on compelling their dance instructor to leave immediately and return promptly at the same time the following Wednesday.

Freya giggled.

Cami’s eyes widened and she pressed her lips against Hope’s sweet smelling honey-blonde hair to hide her smile.  She knew she was blushing.  Seeing Klaus this playful made her happy, and his words sent a warm little jolt of longing deep into her belly.

She struggled to find an appropriate response, but was saved by the sound of a cell phone ringing.

Klaus dug in his pocket, pulling out the wretched device and swiping his thumb over the screen in annoyance.  “Yes?” he said, expectantly, already knowing from the caller id whose voice to expect on the other end of the line.

_Hey, Klaus, it’s Marcel._

“Yes, I’m aware, what can I do for you?” Klaus prodded, trying to hurry the call along.

_Look, I know Cami’s back in town.  I would’ve called her directly but I don’t have her number anymore._

Klaus’s eyes narrowed.  “What business do you have with Camille?”  Klaus watched as Cami’s eyebrows rose with the realization that the call concerned her.  She looked at him questioningly, at the same time lowering Hope back down to the floor so that she could continue playing with her brother.

_I know you don’t like the fact that Cami and I have a history, but this--_

“If you have a point, Marcellus, please feel free to come to it,” Klaus growled, growing impatient.

_Hayley knows that Cami’s back, Klaus.  Two of my guys were out patrolling early this morning and they came across a couple of men out near the bayou.  They were Crescents.  They said they’d heard talk that Hayley and Jackson were getting Hayley’s daughter back...tonight._

“Don’t be ridiculous, Marcel.  That can’t possibly be accurate.  The moon won’t even be full for another couple of days, yet,” Klaus spat, angrily.

_You’re not hearing me, Klaus.  My guys ran into men out there this morning.  Men, not wolves._

“They’ve found a way to reverse the curse,” Klaus mumbled, stunned. 

Cami gasped, and Klaus’s eyes flew to her face, taking in the sudden pale cast to her cheeks, which had been flushed with exertion and happiness mere moments before.

_Yeah.  I don’t know how though.  I talked to Davina, and she says it wasn’t her that broke the curse.  I believe her…she doesn’t have any reason to lie._

Klaus sighed.  This had started out as such a pleasant day.  “Thanks, Marcel,” he paused and then added, “I owe you.”  He hung up the phone and replaced it in his pocket.

He looked at Cami, noticing how large and wet her blue eyes now appeared against the backdrop of her pale face.  He took a step toward her.

“I need to take a shower,” she mumbled, barely above a whisper, as she, eyes down, skirted around him and headed toward the door.

“Cami,” he called, but she didn’t pause.  Instead, she rushed quickly from the room, leaving all of them standing there looking at each other.

Freya jumped into action.  “Hope, Dominik…you guys want to come with me to the kitchen and get a snack while your mommy takes a shower?” she offered, with faux-enthusiasm.

The children, unaware of the sudden tension in the room, went happily with their aunt, leaving Klaus alone in the empty studio with Rebekah.  She, too, headed for the door, but paused as she passed, placing a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly.  “Give her some time,” she suggested, gently.  “Then go after her.”  She continued on her way and then paused one more time in the open doorway.  Over her shoulder, she said, softly, “She’s going to need you, Nik.  This will be the hardest thing she’ll ever have to do.”

Something in her voice made him look at her a little more closely.  Her eyes seemed suspiciously shiny.  Her face was in profile, so it was hard to tell for sure, but what he saw there looked like more than run-of-the-mill empathy.  It looked like understanding…the kind you only achieve when you yourself have been in the same situation.

And then it hit him.

She understood Cami’s dread because she’d been through it.  She’d given up the privilege of mothering Hope once, herself.

“Beks…” he spoke the pet name softly, tilting his head in silent apology. 

She gave him a sad smile and said, “I had Hope for a couple months…Cami’s been her mother for three years.”  She shook her head.  “Nothing about this is going to be easy, Nik.”  She turned and left the room, and he was left standing in the parlor alone.

~-~

Klaus pushed open the heavy, wooden door that lead into Camille’s bedroom and found her standing in the doorway between her room and the empty nursery.  The children were outside with Freya and Rebekah, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet house.

“Cami?” Klaus called softly.  When she didn’t answer, he crossed the room, coming to a stop directly behind her.  She was bundled in a thick terri-cloth robe, having just come from the shower.  He’d heard the water stop and come looking for her. 

Her back was to him, her shoulders hunched and rigid.  He reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, applying gentle pressure until she turned to face him.  Her cheeks and nose were pink, eyes swollen and swimming with tears.  “Are you alright?” he asked, softly, cupping her cheeks in his strong hands, using his thumbs to wipe away the moisture under her eyes.

Her face crumpled.  “I didn’t know it was gonna hurt like this,” she sobbed.

His heart broke.  “Cami…” he breathed, in a pained whisper.

 “When I said I’d let you make me believe Hope was mine I didn’t know what that meant.”  A hard, shuddering breath wracked her body, and she wrapped her arms around her middle as though trying to literally hold herself together.  “I didn’t know I’d love her _this_ much.  I didn’t know it would stay with me after the compulsion was gone…that she’d still feel like _my_ _baby_.”  She was speaking rapidly now, her words tumbling over themselves one after the other, unchecked.  “I thought when it was over, that I’d be able to just…just give her back, and it’d be okay because she wasn’t really mine, but being someone’s mother doesn’t work like that.”  She stared into his eyes, willing him to understand, knowing that he couldn’t possibly, because he’d never had a mother who loved him the way a mother was meant to love her child.  She bowed her head to hide a fresh wave of tears.  “Oh, God, I can’t do this, Klaus.”  She felt a sense of sadness so profound that she was actually nauseous in response to it.  “I can’t give her up.  I know it’s the right thing, but…it hurts too much,” she choked out, pitifully. 

She looked directly at him, then…not at his face or his eyes, but at the very thing that made up _him_.  “I can’t do it.  I can’t give her up…you can’t ask me to.”

She gazed at him through glassy, tear-filled eyes, their blue depths rimmed in red and surrounded by spiked, wet lashes, and she whispered, “But you can compel me to.”

“Cami…” he chided.  “You don’t really want that.”

“It’s the _only_ way I’ll be able to do it, Klaus.”  She shook her head, slowly, from side to side.  “It’ll kill me, otherwise.”  Taking his hands in her smaller ones, she looked directly into his eyes, imploring him, “Tell me I have to give her back to Haley…”  Her voice broke a little at the end.  She took a deep, trembling breath and continued.  “And then tell me that I’ll be sad, but that it’ll be bearable, and that one day, I’ll be okay again.”  The last was little more than a pleading whisper, barely audible over the frantic beat of her broken heart.  “You have to lie to me, Klaus…please?”

“And what about Hope, love?  Shall I compel her as well?” he asked, gently, knowing this was her pain talking…that she wasn’t thinking clearly.

A stricken look came over her face.  “No,” she whispered, horrified.  “I don’t want anyone to lie to her.  She deserves the truth.”  Realization settled into her stormy eyes.  There was no easy way to do this.  She had to tell Hope the truth, and then she had to introduce her to her real mother.

Her face fell.  A fresh wave of hot tears slid down her cheeks, unchecked, as she stood, frozen with anguish.

Klaus moved quickly, gathering her into his arms. 

She stood still, arms hanging limply at her sides as he held her. 

He felt her body trembling against his as she struggled to reign in her emotions.  She was fighting valiantly, he could tell, but with great emotional exertion.  And he knew, without a doubt, he was solely to blame for her struggle.

“I’m sorry, Cami…I’m so sorry,” he whispered.


	14. The Wild Card

 

 

Cami ran the wash cloth gently over Hope’s back, watching as the sweet-smelling baby soap grew into a frothy lather and slid downward, pooling on the water’s surface.  She took comfort in the familiarity of the task, having performed the same ritual, nightly, for the past three-and-a-half years.  She didn’t usually give it much thought, but, this time, as she prepared to wash her daughter’s hair, she found herself pausing to memorize its exact shade and length, committing it to memory.  Just in case...

Swallowing against the tightness in her throat, she reached for the small, pink cup that sat amongst the children’s bath toys and sank it into the warm water, watching as it spluttered and sent air bubbles racing to the surface as it filled. 

She felt her breath hitch, her lungs burn.  She could empathize with that cup.  She, too, felt like she was sinking, drowning, and she imagined oxygen-starved tissue turning pale and then black beneath her ribs. 

She took a shallow breath.

Without prompting, Hope tilted her head back, waiting trustingly for the cascade of warm bathwater that she knew was coming.

Dutifully, Cami placed her palm gently on the girl’s forehead, and began to pour, her fingers shielding the child’s eyes from any stray drops of water. 

If only it were as easy to shield her from all of life’s hurts.

Hope had remained unusually quiet since she and Cami had spoken about Hayley.  Cami knew her daughter though, and was familiar with her tendency to withdraw from and internalize things that frightened or confused her.  Like Cami, Hope needed time to mull things over on her own before she felt comfortable sharing her thoughts and fears with anyone else.  Cami was doing her best to give the girl time to formulate the questions that she needed answered.  It was important, she knew, to allow the child to articulate her feelings in her own time.  There were questions though…Cami knew there were, and she waited patiently for them.

Earlier in the day, after Cami had managed to pull herself together and relieve Freya and Rebekah from their babysitting duties, she had taken the children up to the nursery to rest for a while.  Both children tended to balk at the mention of a “nap” but could usually be persuaded, without much effort, to lie down and rest whilst she read them an afternoon story.  More often than not, this resulted in two sleeping children and, occasionally, a sleeping mommy.  Without fail, though, Dominik always fell asleep well before Hope did, and Cami knew that would be her chance to talk to the girl about the changes that were about to occur in all of their lives.

And so, lying spooned together in a toddler bed, in a patch of warm afternoon sunlight, with Dominik sleeping soundly only two feet away on the other bed, Cami broke the news to Hope in the gentlest way that she could think of...

In whispered tones, with lips pressed close against her daughter’s ear, Cami told Hope the story of a very special little girl, a magical princess, born to the King and Queen of two feuding families—a mother and father who had loved her _so_ much, but had been forced by circumstance to send her away.  Then she told her of the Fairy Godmother whom the King had chosen, especially, to raise the girl and love her and keep her safe until they could all be a family again.  She told her how the King had finally come for the princess and reunited their family, and how they were now all living happily ever after, except for the Queen.  She went on to explain that the Queen had loved the girl every bit as much as the King, but that she’d been caught in a spell and was only recently freed, and now she wanted nothing more than to meet her daughter, so that they could all live happily ever after together.

“And do you know what?” Cami whispered, shakily, praying that she was getting this moment right.

“What?” whispered Hope, completely entranced by the fairytale.

“That’s a true story,” Cami whispered, her hushed voice containing a forced sense of wonder, which belied her true wariness.

“It is?” Hope asked, surprised, rolling onto her back to stare up at Cami through large, blue-green eyes.

“Mmm hmm,” Cami managed, brushing her fingers lovingly over Hope’s brow and tucking a lock of honey-blonde hair behind her ear.  “And that little princess?  That’s you,” she revealed, quietly, tapping her finger gently against Hope’s chest.

“Me?” Hope echoed Cami’s words, incredulously.

“Yep…that’s the incredible, true story of Hope Mikaelson,” Cami said, wearing a smile she prayed the child couldn’t tell was forced.

“I had a other mommy?  B’for you?” the girl’s voice quivered slightly with emotion, and, in response, Cami felt her heart fracturing in her chest.

Her next words felt thick and irregularly shaped, and she feared they might get stuck somewhere in her trachea and suffocate her.  “Yes, you did,” she was finally able to say, the words barely more than a whisper. 

“And you know’d her?” Hope asked, cautiously.  “Was she your friend?” she asked, plucking worriedly at the fabric of Cami’s t-shirt.

“Yes, she was,” Cami answered, honestly, thankful that she could, in good conscience, count Hayley as a friend—or at least as a friendly acquaintance.

“And my Daddy gived me to you?” the girl asked, still trying to piece it all together.  “So, I’d be safe from bad guys?”

“Yes, he did.  And it was very hard for him and your…” she forced the words, “…your first mommy to do that, because they loved you so much.”  She tried to act like it was nothing, like having one mother and being raised by another happened all the time, and she supposed it did—albeit in totally different circumstances.  “But your Daddy gave you to me to keep you safe…and I’m so happy he chose me, because he made you _my_ baby, too.” 

Truer words had never been spoken--Cami had been overcome with emotion when Klaus had handed over his baby girl to her for safe keeping.  She had opened her arms and her heart to Hope and never looked back.

“Did my Daddy give you Nik?” Hope wanted to know.

Cami had anticipated this question, and did her best to answer it simply and honestly.

“Yes, he did,” she answered, pausing to wait for Hope to digest the information and propel the conversation forward at her own pace.

“But Nik growed in your tummy…” Hope remembered.

 _Oh boy_. 

Cami struggled for a moment, to find the words, but was able to recover fairly quickly.

“When your Daddy gave me Nik, he was so tiny that he wasn’t ready to be born yet, so he had to grow in my tummy, but _you_ …” Cami pressed her lips to Hope’s forehead, “Your first mommy had already grown you big and strong in her tummy, so when your Daddy brought you to me, you didn’t need to be in my tummy.”

“Does Nik have a first mommy, too?” Hope asked, her eyes serious.

“Well, _I’m_ Nik’s first mommy…he doesn’t have _another_ mommy though, no,” Cami said, gently, knowing that’s what the girl was really asking.

Hope looked concerned.

“Let’s not tell him right away, though, okay?” Cami whispered, conspiratorially, to her.  “He might be jealous, because you get to have _two_ mommies and he only has one.” 

It felt manipulative to try to present the situation in such a positive light when she knew in her heart this could all go so badly, so quickly.  She prayed, silently, for the millionth time, that Hayley was the person she thought her to be—a person who would put Hope’s needs above all others, including her own.  When this was all said and done, they all needed to be together, a family…no matter how untraditional.  Hope couldn’t be separated from any of them.  Not again. 

Just as she’d been about to ask Hope what she thought about the possibility of meeting her “first mommy”, there was a faint knock on the open French door that led from Klaus’s room into the nursery.

Cami glanced over her shoulder and spotted him standing in the open doorway.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, quietly, already making his way into the room, crossing the floor on near-silent feet.

“Of course not.  Come on in,” she offered, grateful for the brief distraction.  To her surprise, he slid onto the tiny bed, directly behind her.  It creaked under his added weight, and she shifted forward slightly to accommodate his presence.  He wrapped himself around her body, effectively spooning both she and Hope, and rested his chin on her shoulder, peering down at the little girl.

“Am I mistaken or did I overhear the story of Hope Mikaelson?” he asked, as if it were the most famous story ever told.

“Am I _really_ a princess, Daddy?” Hope asked, and Cami couldn’t help but be thankful that was the aspect of the story the child had chosen to focus on.  While Cami knew more questions about Hayley were bound to come, clearly she hadn’t traumatized the child with her revelation. 

“You are _my_ princess,” he acknowledged.

“But are you really a king?” she pressed.

“Of course, I am,” he answered, smiling down at the girl.  “Do you doubt it?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her, playfully.

Hope grinned and shook her head, and Cami was instantly charmed by Klaus’s ability to elicit such a trusting response from their daughter.

Lifting Cami’s head gently, Klaus tucked his bicep between the pillow and her cheek and tugged her closer until he could rest his chin against the warm skin in the crook of her neck.  His five o’ clock shadow scraped delectably against her tender flesh, and she shivered against him.  She felt him smile against her skin, likely pleased by her involuntary reaction to him.

“Where is my first mommy now?” Hope asked, carefully, and Cami’s heart began to race in her chest.

She felt Klaus’s warm hand leave its perch on her left hip and slip up the front of her body, sliding over her flat abdomen, skimming between her breasts, and finally coming to rest against her chest, his thumb and index finger forming bookends along the straight line of her collarbones.  And there it remained, his palm pressing comfortingly against her pounding heart. 

 _I’m here_ , he seemed to say.

She took a deep, shaky breath and prepared to answer her daughter’s question, but before she could, Klaus spoke, saving her from inadvertently revealing her distress.

“Your first mother,” he answered, using Cami’s description of Hayley, “Is here in New Orleans, but she wanted you to get settled a bit before she came to see you.  Would that be alright with you…if she came here to visit us sometime?”  He had been careful to say “us”, letting Hope know that her current family unit was to remain intact, and that Hayley would be the outsider, coming in.  It was a good bit of psychology and Cami was impressed with his ability to communicate with the girl so effectively on such a sensitive topic.

Hope’s eyes moved to Cami’s and, for her daughter’s benefit, Cami put on a brave smile.

“Okay,” Hope shrugged, seeming unconvinced, but not especially troubled.

Cami let out a small sigh of relief.  Maybe they could get through this after all.

“Can you tell me a story, Daddy?” Hope requested, yawning.

Cami felt Klaus’s chest swell, his warmth, momentarily, pressing more firmly against her back.

“I would be happy to tell you a story, love,” he said, quietly, his breath whispering along Cami’s jawline, causing a few errant strands of blonde hair to tickle the soft skin of her throat.

“I believe all the best ones begin…Once upon a time,” he started, obligingly.

Cami closed her eyes and relaxed for what felt like the first time in weeks.  His deep voice rumbled through his chest, and she felt the soothing vibration of it against her back.  She drew her knees up a little higher, shifting her sock-covered feet on the bed until they bumped against his shins.  Without missing a beat in his story, Klaus dropped a quick, tender kiss to the skin just below her ear, and tucked his knees firmly into the bend behind her own. 

Within minutes, she had fallen asleep.

“Will you be with me when she comes?” Hope asked, causing Cami to drop the pink cup she’d been holding for God-only-knows how long.  Giving herself a mental shake, she dipped her fingers into the tub, and retrieved the now sunken receptacle. 

The bathwater had grown tepid.

To anyone watching it might seem as though the girl’s question had come out of nowhere, but Cami knew her daughter had been stewing over this all evening.

“Of course, I will,” she assured the child, placing a gentle hand on her forehead, urging her to tilt her head back.  “Let’s rinse one more time and make sure Mommy got all the soap, okay?”

Hope tilted her head back, obligingly, waiting patiently as Cami poured water over her scalp and ran gentle fingers through her wet locks a couple of more times.  Satisfied, Cami reached forward and pulled the plug from the drain.  The old claw foot tub made sucking noises as the water rushed down the drain and Hope giggled in delight against prune-y fingers. 

Without prompting, Hope struggled to her feet, clinging tightly to tub’s curved porcelain edge. 

“Careful,” Cami cautioned, placing a steadying hand under Hope’s arm, making sure the child didn’t slip.  Once she was certain the girl was steady on her feet, Cami let go of her to reach for a bath towel.

“Mama?” Hope asked, as Cami wrapped her in the fluffy, pale yellow cotton and lifted her from the tub.

“Hmm?” Cami hummed, as she set the girl on the bath mat, knelt before her, and began lightly rubbing the towel over her daughter’s skin.

“She won’t take me away…will she?” Hope asked, seriously, one hand clutching Cami’s shoulder for support, the other twisting nervously in the ends of her long, blonde hair.

Cami’s hands stilled. 

Looking into Hope’s large, solemn eyes she felt torn.  She didn’t want to lie to her daughter, but she didn’t want the girl to be scared of meeting Hayley, either.  She tried to imagine herself in Hayley’s situation.  As much as she would want to see her daughter, she couldn’t fathom that she would ever rip her out of the only home, the only family, she’d ever known.  She had to believe that Hayley wouldn’t do that to Hope either.

She _had_ to believe that.

Cami wrapped the towel around Hope once again and pulled the girl close against her chest, wrapping her arms around her tightly and pressing her lips against her wet hair.

“No,” she said, firmly.  “She won’t.” 

She had to believe that they could make this work somehow, that they could all come together out of a shared love for this little girl. 

Klaus was Klaus, but he loved his daughter, and Cami knew that he respected the role he’d given her in his daughter’s life and that he would never do anything to jeopardize the bond they shared as mother and daughter.  And, obviously, she herself loved Hope unconditionally, without limit, and would do whatever it took to ensure her happiness. 

Hayley was the wild card.

Especially, given what they’d learned earlier this evening. 

Despite whatever plans she’d had to see and possibly reclaim Hope today, it seemed that Hayley now had an arguably more pressing matter to attend to.  The only witch Hayley and Jackson had managed to find who was powerful enough to undo the curse, had been unwilling to do so.  Backs against a wall, they had forced her hand by blackmailing her with some information she feared getting back to her coven.  Eventually, she had been able to complete the reversal spell by calling upon The Ancestors for help.  Unfortunately, she’d promised them something in return, something she hadn’t yet procured—the daughter of the Crescent Queen.  When Hayley and Jackson had learned of the deal that had been made, they’d gone after her, not knowing that she’d managed to cast a failsafe spell for her own protection.  In the battle that ensued, Jackson had inflicted a mortal wound on the witch, and the failsafe spell had worked its dark magic. 

The moment her heart had ceased to beat, so had his.

Jackson was dead, and now it was anyone’s guess what Hayley’s state of mind was.

With Jackson gone and the person responsible already dead by his own hand, Hayley had fled, and no one knew where she’d gone.

So, in this terrifying game, the outcome of which would most likely determine her daughter’s fate, Hayley was the wild card.

And wild cards were called just that, for a reason.


	15. Losers, Weepers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! With recent events on the show my mojo got a little thwarted, but I'm determined to stay with this thing to the bitter end. Hope you all enjoy angst...

**Chapter 15:  Losers, Weepers**

 

Hayley arrived back at the compound exactly three days after they’d broken the news of her existence to Hope.  She appeared intact, albeit a bit thinner than usual and sporting dark shadows beneath both of her eyes.  She was calm and subdued, and, other than brief offerings of condolence, no one spoke to her much about the recent death of her husband.  She seemed uncomfortable discussing her loss, and no one seemed to know exactly what to say, anyway.  She stood in the living room exchanging pleasantries and wringing her hands, nervously, for several tense minutes until, eventually, Freya and Rebekah both found other places they suddenly needed to be.  Klaus hovered nervously on the periphery of a room he ordinarily dominated, and Elijah seemed more ill at ease than anyone.  In the end, it was Cami who took pity on her and suggested they go upstairs and say hello to the children. 

Hayley looked stricken for a moment, but then seemed to recover, nodding her assent and following Cami toward the front stairs.  Klaus seemed poised to follow but then appeared to think better of it.  Elijah looked on, his eyes filled with concern, as the two women left the room.

“I’d heard you had a child while you were away…I…didn’t know if it was true or not,” Hayley said, quietly.

“I have a son,” Cami confirmed.  “His name is Dominik,” she offered, politely, as they ascended the stairs.

“How old is he?” Hayley asked.

Cami wasn’t sure if the other woman was making small talk in order to calm her nerves or if she was actually trying to glean information, but she answered her, nonetheless.  “Two-and-a-half,” she smiled, tightly.  “Actually, he’ll be three on Valentine’s day.”

Hayley nodded, remaining silent.

Cami couldn’t be sure, but she thought the pretty brunette was probably running the numbers in her head, calculating exactly how many months she’d been gone before she’d given birth to her son.  It was the reaction she expected, so it didn’t really bother her.  She was surprised though when, moments later, Hayley offered, “Klaus must have been thrilled when he heard the news.”

There was no malice or sarcasm in her voice, just casual observation.

For a moment Cami didn’t know how to respond, but after several seconds, having sufficiently recovered, she was able to answer, “He was…Klaus was…I think he didn’t know what to think, honestly.”

“Really?” Hayley seemed genuinely surprised.

Cami eyed her suspiciously for several seconds before answering, slowly.  “Well, yeah…I mean, it’s not like we planned it or even thought…” Cami trailed off, shrugging, helplessly.

“Yeah, I guess not,” Hayley agreed, empathy arranging her pretty features into a look of understanding. 

“Anyway,” Cami breathed.  “This is it,” she said, gesturing toward the open doorway of her bedroom.  “The nursery is just through here.”  She hoped that Hayley couldn’t detect the fine tremble in her voice. 

“What does she know about me?” Hayley asked, staring straight ahead, not moving to meet Cami’s eyes.

“The truth,” Cami answered, honestly.  “Or at least, as much of it as she could understand,” she allowed.  “I told her that her mother and father loved her very much, and that they did what they did to protect her.”  Cami hesitated, and then added, quietly, “She’s had a happy life, Hayley.”

“Cami…no…I…I didn’t mean to imply,” Hayley stumbled over her words, before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.  She stilled.  “Wait, she knows I’m her mom?” Hayley whispered, blinking sudden moisture from her eyes. 

“I told her that you were her first mother,” Cami acknowledged, feeling guilty referring to herself as Hope’s mother, at all, while standing face to face with Hayley, but at the same time feeling exceedingly protective of the bond she shared with Hope.

“Thank you,” Hayley managed, softly, once she’d regained her composure.  “For what you did.  You’ll never know how much I appreciate it.  This can’t be easy for you either.”

Cami smiled, shakily, and gave a small shake of her head in acknowledgement of Hayley’s words.  She didn’t try to speak.  She didn’t trust her voice just yet, and she needed to hold it together for Hope’s sake.  After a few more seconds and a couple more deep breaths, she strode purposefully toward the nursery.

It took about twenty minutes for Hope to interact directly with Hayley once the introductions had been made.  The girl stayed close by Cami’s side at first, eyeing Hayley speculatively, whilst Hayley attempted one-sided conversation.  Dominik, on the other hand, had no such qualms and chatted happily with their new guest, offering her blocks and toy boats to play with.  To Hayley’s credit, she played sweetly with Dominik, all the while maintaining a steady effort to engage Hope in conversation as well.  Eventually, Nik and Hayley’s giggles persuaded Hope to leave Cami’s side and venture over to the small kingdom they’d built out of wooden blocks.  Her tiny hand had trailed behind her, not quite ready to let go of the safety Cami provided.  Her fingertips maintained contact with Cami’s thigh, until she finally moved far enough away that the connection was lost.  Watching her go caused an acute ache to spread throughout Cami’s chest, but it was tempered with a strong sense of relief that Hope was feeling more confident with the situation, less afraid. 

It was an odd mix of emotions, and Cami suspected she’d be feeling this constant sense of ambivalence for a long time. 

She had thought she would be terrified of the idea of Hayley absconding with Hope, but as it turned out, Hayley seemed almost as cautious of Hope as the girl was of her.  Cami watched as her eyes continuously dragged over the child from head to toe, no doubt cataloguing all that had changed in the last three-and-a-half years.  After all, Hope had been an infant when Hayley had lost her to circumstances beyond her control, and now here she was, a little girl, full of ideas and opinions and knowledge, not to mention the physical changes, which were also vast. 

Cami observed Hayley, silently, from a distance.  After what had happened to Jackson and the sudden shock of seeing her infant daughter now approaching school-age, the other woman seemed adrift, less of a threat and more just…one more person who needed this to be their home.  Cami wondered if the Mikaelson’s could find it in their hearts to absorb one more person into this patchwork family they’d created.  They’d made it work with Hayley once before, when Hope was a baby.  Cami knew that nothing would make Elijah happier than having Hayley here, where he could watch over her.  Rebekah would do whatever was best for Hope, no questions asked, and sweet Freya seemed forever willing to accept new family, no matter the reason. 

Klaus, on the other hand…

There was no love lost between Klaus and Hayley at this point, though Cami was pretty sure that he would be amenable to any option that might let them all retain equal footing in Hope’s life.  Whether or not Hayley would accept a place here though, remained to be seen, but she seemed to need the comfort of a home right now, this was the closest thing she had to that since Jackson was gone. 

Cami felt a growing sense of certainty that this was her chance to make this work, to make them all see that they could do this as a single family unit.  Right now, in this finite window of time, while Hayley needed them, was her chance to make them all see what this family could be.

~-~

Cami pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her chilled fingers and bowed her head against the steady drizzle that had begun to fall not long after she’d left the compound.  Her long blonde hair hung in damp waves around her shoulders, but she needed this time on her own, so she pressed on. 

She needed space from everyone she’d left behind those impenetrable walls.

Hayley had been at the compound for three days, and it had been a challenging three days to say the least.  Cami had gone from being Hope’s primary care-giver to being one of three primary care-givers, and she’d poured her heart and soul into making the transition go as smoothly as possible.  She’d already been sharing a little of her parental responsibility with Klaus, and even though it had been a welcome change, even that had felt foreign to her.  Adding Hayley into the mix was a daunting task, one that had taken its toll on her both mentally and physically.  She wasn’t sleeping well, hadn’t felt like eating, and she knew her temper was getting the best of her.  She’d snapped at Nik this morning for no reason, and the look on his sweet little face had made her feel like the worst mother in the world.  She’d apologized immediately, and he’d forgiven her and forgotten all about it in a matter of minutes, but hours later, she still felt guilty.

To make matters worse, Klaus seemed to be pulling away from her…now, when she needed him more than she ever had before.  They’d been so close the last couple of weeks…that night after the kids had fallen asleep they’d even danced toward something physical, but the past few days he’d grown increasingly distant. 

Ever since Hayley had come back.

She sighed.

She didn’t really think it had anything to do with Hayley.  She thought it was probably just coincidence, though she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what _had_ set this sudden change into motion.  Granted, Klaus had never been an open book with her, not really.  He’d always doled out information about himself in tiny little increments, the one exception being when he’d briefly allowed her to look inside his mind.  She cherished the trust he’d placed in her in that moment. Perhaps that’s why it stung all the more now that he seemed to be shutting her out once again.

Her booted feet scraped along the wet pavement as she turned a corner and crossed under a large wrought-iron archway.  She hadn’t had a destination in mind when she’d left the compound, but she wasn’t surprised to find herself standing in front of Sean’s grave.  She ran her fingers over the cold marble, tracing the faded pinky-red streaks of graffiti that had long since been cleared away.  Mercifully, there were no current words of hate scrawled across the otherwise pristine stone. 

“Hey, Sean,” she whispered.  “It’s been awhile.”  She looked up at the gray sky and squinted her eyes against the glare.  “I’m a mom now,” she offered into the silence.  “I haven babies of my own, can you believe that?”  She sniffed against the sudden pressure in her sinuses.  “You have a nephew.  I named him Dominik, but his middle name is Reece…after you.  He even looks a little bit like you.  You’d really love him, Bub,” she whispered, her voice catching on the last word.  She pictured her son’s wounded expression from this morning, his big blue eyes, shining with unshed tears.  She remembered seeing the same expression on Sean’s face when they were little, when his feelings had been especially hurt.  Pressing her forehead against the cold marble, she gave herself permission to grieve for just a minute…for all the moments she and her brother would never share.  He would never be Uncle Sean to her kids, never laugh at their antics or feel pride at their accomplishments, and he would never have kids of his own.  She would never be Aunt Cami to his babies.  Their kids would never be the closest of cousins.  There would be no cousins at all, because there was no Sean, not anymore.  No Sean, no Uncle Kieran…and, it would seem, no Klaus.  No one at all.  Placing one hand flat against the stone, she breathed in and out several times.  “Sean,” she whispered, brokenly, “I really miss you…and I really wish you were here with me right now.” 

Klaus bowed his head and faded back around the corner of the nearest tomb.  He’d come to watch over her, sensing her emotional turmoil as she’d left the compound.  He’d watched her take off in a meandering path, wondering where she would go, and who, if anyone, she would seek out in her despair.  He should have known she’d come to find comfort amongst the dead, after all, all those who were dearest to her had been lost, save the children.  Given the current situation with Hope, she had to be feeling as if even they were at risk of slipping through her fingers if she wasn’t vigilant. 

Klaus had trailed behind her, silently, at a distance, watching as she trudged mindlessly through near-deserted winter streets.  Mardi Gras would be rolling around soon enough, but for now, the streets remained blessedly tourist free.  He’d struggled against the urge to catch up with her when the cold moisture in the air took the form of a light drizzle and began to fall, coating her hair in a fine mist, until it began to dampen and curl.  He resisted the impulse to drape his jacket over her slender frame, cocooning her in his warmth and protecting her from the chill in the air.  His fists clenched at his sides as he watched her fingers, pale with cold, draw up into her damp sweater for shelter.  Only the knowledge that she’d obviously needed time away from him kept him from approaching her. 

For the past several days, he had watched her do everything in her power to make Hayley feel welcome in their home, and to make Hope feel comfortable in Hayley’s presence.  And it was working.  It wasn’t perfect, by any stretch of the imagination…it would, of course, take time, but Hope was taking it all in stride, adjusting to yet another new person in her life.  Thanks, in part, to Cami’s insistence that they all spend time together, creating an environment wherein Hope felt safe to explore the new relationship that had been presented to her.  Camille’s psychology degree was getting a workout, but the child was making strides.

She was a remarkable woman, fascinating even.

She thought he didn’t see what she was up to though, making them all realize how grand life might be if only they could all get along.  However, Klaus had lived a long time…long enough to know that these types of arrangements had a way of falling apart under the weight of familial tensions and expectations. 

And he would not be the thing that caused the collapse of this intricate house of cards that she was constructing around them.  Not this time.

He could sense Camille’s fear of him, her worry that one wrong move by any one of them might send him into a violent rage, causing him to destroy the fragile structure she’d worked so hard to build.  After all, his anger had already cost Hayley years with their daughter, had it not?  What was to stop him from making the same mistake again?  From letting his anger over-power his self-control?

But if he’d learned nothing else from that calamity, he’d learned the value of time. 

He would not cost Camille any precious time she had with Hope, and he knew that by attempting to build a life with her, he would do just that. He was cursed, damned.  He had hurt everyone he’d ever dared to love, and he knew with a certainty borne of a thousand years of history that if he allowed himself to love her, it would all turn to ash in his hands.

He would be damned if she’d get burned because of him. 

As much as he wanted a chance at the life he’d glimpsed with her…a life with his own family--a daughter and a son and perhaps, if he was lucky, even someday a wife…he knew it could never be.  Her fear and uncertainty when she’d looked at him over the past few days had cemented his resolve.  She knew him well…perhaps best of all, and if she believed him capable of destroying their happiness, she was right…he knew that she was right to fear the darkness in him.  She’d seen inside him, had seen the fate that would undoubtedly await her, should she take a chance on building a life with him.  And yet, she would…she would risk it all, for him…because that’s who she was.

But he couldn’t allow her to do it. 

It was best for all of them if he kept his distance.  He would still be there for the children, of course, but as far as Camille was concerned, he would stay well removed from her presence unless absolutely necessary.

Perhaps, he thought grimly, after a thousand years on this earth, he was finally growing up.  Or perhaps being a father had changed him more profoundly than even he had realized.  Regardless, he knew that the best thing for all of them was that he focus on being a good father, and keep his distance from Camille.

He watched as she wiped her eyes and blew out a shaky breath, running her fingers along the cool marble one last time.  _Goodbye_ Sean, he read on her lips, before she turned, slowly, and started back the way she’d come. 

He followed at a safe distance, making certain not to disturb her solitude.


	16. Fumbling Toward Ecstasy

Cami spent the next few days bickering with Klaus and finding herself on the opposite side of more than one slammed door, which stung, though not as much as him pretending that she no longer existed, which is how he’d been treating her.  She didn’t get it.  She really didn’t.  Nothing had happened between them, nothing to warrant this kind of treatment, anyway.  It would be one thing if he just didn’t have feelings for her anymore, but she knew him too well at this point to believe that that was the case.  On the rare occasions that she caught him looking her way, the times when he didn’t think she’d noticed, he looked at her with soft eyes…fondness and longing.  As soon as she attempted to approach him, though, to talk to him, he practically bolted from the room, which irritated her and provoked her into instigating arguments with him.  At least when he was angry, he would forget to ignore her.  He would look at her, and for a few moments they would connect…until he realized what was happening and shut himself away somewhere, in his bedroom or a locked study.  She hadn’t yet had the guts to force herself into any of those private sanctuaries with him.  She had a feeling that she knew what the outcome of that decision would be, and as much as she wanted to just give in to the impulse and do it, Klaus’s recent behavior had her questioning the wisdom of that choice, now more than ever. 

Their last argument had been a bad one.  They’d been loud, and everyone, save the children, had been privy to it.  She’d wanted to take Hope and Nik out ice skating before the weather got too warm.  He’d forbidden it.  She’d balked.  He’d dug in his heels.  The truth of the matter was, she’d known he wouldn’t want her going out alone with the kids.  He worried about them and felt that the three of them alone on the streets of New Orleans without a supernatural chaperone was inviting trouble.  He was probably right, and she wouldn’t normally have pressed the issue, but he’d been especially cold to her that day and it had finally pushed her to the point of provoking him into another argument.  She knew good and well that no one was available to go with them, so she insisted on going alone.  They must have argued for a good ten minutes, sending everyone, except Elijah, running for the hills, and then, once Klaus was good and riled, she’d saucily suggested that she could always ask Marcel to accompany her, as she was sure he wouldn’t mind, seeing as how they were old friends.  Klaus had gone completely silent, and it was at this point that even Elijah had decided to expatriate to some new and undisclosed location. 

Cami had regretted the words the second they’d left her mouth.  Klaus had just made her so angry.  No one got under her skin the way he did.  It was maddening.

His eyes had flashed, and for a brief moment she’d thought she saw a glimmer of real hurt in his eyes, but then it was gone, replaced by a cold smile that didn’t go anywhere near his eyes.  Her stomach had dropped in response to his pain…she hadn’t wanted to hurt him, not really…she’d just wanted him to _look_ at her again.

“You may go wherever you like with Marcellus, Camille,” he whispered, acidly.  “But you will _not_ be doing so with my children.”

He’d left the room, abruptly, leaving her alone, feeling like a complete jerk.

They’d made up later…sort of, as best they could, she supposed, without actually talking.  She’d dropped the idea of going ice skating, and instead suggested that he spend some time with the kids.  She’d set them up in the living room with games and movies and then retreated to the kitchen.  Once they were well distracted, she’d sneaked back into the room with her camera and snapped some candids.  Over the next couple of hours, she’d managed to get several good shots of the three of them playing Twister, building a fort out of couch cushions, and snuggling together on the sofa whilst watching Finding Nemo.  Later, she’d printed the shots and placed them in his study, leaving them on his desk in an envelope marked with her loopy cursive scrawl, it read—

_To Daddy, Love Hope and Dominik_

The next morning, she’d found a photo on her bureau.  There was no note, but in the picture, she was lying on her back with Nik on her chest, his arms and legs on either side of her and his cheek resting on her heart.  Hope’s head rested on her thigh.  All three of them were sound asleep.

She recognized the background as the hotel room they’d spent the night in on their drive to New Orleans weeks ago.  He must have snapped the picture without her realizing it.

Smiling to herself, she’d tucked the photo into the corner of her mirror.

Things weren’t okay between them, but they weren’t beyond repair either.

~-~

“CAMILLE!”

Cami jumped, causing her foot to slip mid-step as she exited the shower.  Struggling to keep her balance, she moved carefully, yet hastily, to grab a towel.  She’d know that shout anywhere, and given her annoyance over being mostly ignored for the past few days, she would disregard the sound entirely if it weren’t for the slight tinge of panic she’d noted in his voice, a tone that had her heart beating fast and her feet moving forward on auto-pilot.  She’d gone for a run, and everything had been fine when she’d retuned.  What could have possibly fallen apart in the past fifteen minutes? 

“Klaus?” she called, worriedly, as she wrapped a bath sheet around her body and tucked it firmly at her breast.  “I’m in here!”

“Camille!”  Closer now, she could hear the unmistakable sound of her son’s cries mingling with his father’s panicked calls.

Shoving the bathroom door open, she moved quickly toward the sound of Klaus’s voice.  Just as she crossed the threshold into her bedroom, he burst through the door, clutching Nik in his arms and looking frantic. 

“What happened?” she asked, moving forward, quickly.

“I was teaching him how to catch a baseball...” he said, at the same time, his voice full of contrition, as though he’d done something to be ashamed of.

At the sound of her voice, Nik’s cries became louder, and he turned in Klaus’s arms, reaching chubby hands toward the sound of his mother’s voice.  His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his face flushed bright red, and his cheeks streaked with tears.  She could see right away where the damage was.  He had a nickel-sized knot protruding from the center of his forehead.

“Baby…” she cooed, taking him into her arms.  He wrapped his arms around her neck and his legs around her waist, clinging tightly to her, like a baby monkey.  “Shh,” she whispered, as he buried his face in her neck, and sobbed.  She sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her hand soothingly up and down his back.  “You’re okay, buddy.  Mommy’s got you, you’re okay.”

Klaus stood by, helplessly, and watched as her words began to have an immediate calming effect on their son.  His body began to relax against hers and his sobs slowed to shuddering little hiccups.

Cami looked up and noted the worried expression on Klaus’s face.  A devious little part of her wanted to let him suffer for a few more minutes, the part of her that was still smarting after a week of being almost completely ignored by the man.  The other part of her, however…the decent, loving majority, couldn’t let him suffer needlessly.  He was obviously upset, and the open expression of love and concern on his face as he gazed at their son softened her heart.  “He’s okay, Klaus.  It’s just a bump on the head.”

“Are you certain?” he asked, seeming unconvinced.  “I could…” he started, lifting his wrist toward his lips and baring his teeth.

“No!” she cut in, firmly.  Then more gently, “He’s going to fine.”  She looked straight into his eyes, willing him to believe her.  It was the first time they’d shared eye contact in days, sans argument.  She’d missed the way he could easily read her intent from just the expression on her face.  Even now his shoulders sagged a little in relief in response to her calm gaze.

Feeling that he was suitably convinced of their son’s survival, she turned her attention back to Dominik, dipping her head and pressing her lips against his damp cheek.  “You’re okay,” she assured him again.

“He caught the first few pitches perfectly, so I backed up a little and…” Klaus trailed off.  He didn’t know what he’d been thinking.  The boy clearly wasn’t old enough to play baseball yet.  He had wanted to though--he’d brought Klaus the ball and asked him to play.

It was the first thing his son had ever really asked of him. 

And look how it’d turned out.

He’d had only two goals this week-- Be a good father, and stay away from Camille.

_Well, you’re off to a brilliant start on the father bit_ , he thought.  And as for staying away from Camille…his eyes followed the line of her bare arm, from where her hand rested against their son’s back, all the way up to the curve of her shoulder, and then down to where the roundness of her breast disappeared beneath her bath towel. 

Be a good dad.  Stay away from Camille.

So far, his new plan was failing spectacularly. 

“It’s not your fault, Klaus.  He’s a little boy,” she said, shrugging.  “They get hurt.  I’m sure you were no exception,” she smiled, imagining him at Nik’s age, splashing in mud puddles and poking at bee hives.  Mischievous even then, she was sure.

Seeming to read her thoughts, he smiled, his lips tilting up of their own accord, then, catching himself, he muttered, “I should get some ice for his head.”

He was gone before she could utter a reply.

Sighing, Cami pulled Nik away from her shoulder so she could look at his forehead once again.  The bump was red and would no doubt be multiple shades of blue, purple and green by tomorrow, but there was no real harm done.  “Are you okay?” she asked him, quietly.

Nik sniffled and nodded, rubbing bravely at his wet lashes, even as his lower lip turned down and his chin quivered. 

“Oh, my sweet boy,” she said, hugging him close one more time before turning him around and lying down on her side.  Tugging him close, she spooned herself around his little body, cocooning him in her warmth.  Reaching forward, she began to run her fingers, gently, through his soft blond hair.  “You know your Daddy didn’t mean to hit you with the ball, right?”

She felt him nod his head beneath her hand. 

“Maybe we should use the nerf ball from now on.  Until you learn to catch better…that way it won’t hurt if you miss, okay?”

“Kay,” he whispered, his voice still punctuated by breathy little shudders.

Klaus returned, at that moment, with the ice.  “Here,” he said, crouching down in front of them and placing the bag, gently, on Nik’s bump.  “Are you alright, son?” he asked, tentatively.

His eyes were on Nik, and Cami allowed herself to watch his face as he interacted with their son.

“I miss it,” Nik said, and Cami couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious pout she could hear in his voice.

Klaus’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, and he smiled, his expression one of relieved amusement.  “You’ll catch it next time, alright?”

“I catch the soft one,” Nik agreed.

“The nerf ball,” Cami clarified.  “We’ve agreed to give the actual baseball a rest for the time being.”

Klaus nodded.  _Right_.  He should have thought of that to begin with.

“Hey,” Cami said softly, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.  “He’s fine.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but was interrupted by Hope’s voice from the doorway.

“Mama!  Look what Hayley buyed me!” Hope called happily, as she rushed into the room, full of smiles.

Cami turned her head toward Hope.  “Oh, what is it?  Let me see!” she enthused.

Hope held up ten perfectly painted, pearly-pink fingernails, proudly.

“Wooow,” Cami replied in faux-amazement.  “Those are gorgeous, Hope.  Did you tell her thank you?”

“Yep,” replied the little girl, happily.

“She wanted “big girl” nails, like mine,” Hayley explained, as she followed Hope into the room.  “I hope that’s okay…she said you’d painted her nails before, and I didn’t see the harm in it.”

Cami smiled at the effort the other woman was putting into not stepping on her toes.  Honestly, it _was_ making it easier to relinquish some control.  Just being consulted went a long way toward making her want to try to facilitate this transition into Hayley being an equal parent in Hope’s eyes.  Right now the scales were still tipped decidedly in Cami’s favor, which was a nice feeling, but Cami knew it wasn’t the end goal.  The _best_ thing for Hope was that Cami, Klaus and Hayley all be equally important in Hope’s life.  It would take time, and no doubt some missteps and hurt feelings on all sides, but they were all doing their best, and that was all she could really hope for at this point.

“Look, Mama, we match!” Hope said, holding her hand up next to Cami’s, comparing similar shades of pink nail polish. 

They all looked, and Klaus and Cami seemed to realize, simultaneously, that their hands were still linked.  He, abruptly, pulled his away and stood, stepping back from the side of the bed.

Cami felt disappointment settle in her belly, but she smiled, despite it.  “I love it, Hope.  And you’re right, we _do_ match.  You picked the perfect shade.”

“Hayley, too!” Hope pointed.

“She couldn’t wait to show you,” Hayley added, holding up her hands, revealing matching pink nails.  She shifted, awkwardly, glancing back and forth between Klaus and Cami, seeming to realize that she was intruding on something, though not sure quite what.

“What’s wrong with Nik?” Hope asked, seeming to notice her brother’s tear-stained cheeks for the first time.

“He got a little bump on his head.  He’s okay now though.  Right, buddy?” she asked, rubbing Nik’s shoulder, comfortingly.

He nodded.  “I okay,” he said, smiling at Hope.

“Wanna go play in our castle?” Hope asked him.

His eyes lit up, and he rose into a sitting position, causing his ice pack to tumble to the floor.

“Wait, just a second,” Cami said, placing a gentle hand on his arm to still him.  “I want you to have some lunch first.  I want to give you some Tylenol, so your head doesn’t hurt later, but you need to eat before I can give it to you.” 

He looked disappointed, but Nik was never one to turn away the offer of food.

“Hayley, did Hope eat yet?” Cami asked, sitting up on the bed.

“No, I was going to make her something now.  Why don’t I take Nik, too, that way you can get dressed?” she suggested.

“Really?” Cami asked.  “That’d be great.  Thank you.”  She kissed Nik’s cheeks, one at a time, and then said, “Okay, buddy, can you go with Hope and Hayley and get something to eat?  When you’re finished, you need to have some medicine, and then you can go outside.”

Hopping off the bed, Nik ran straight to Hayley and raised his arms to be picked up. 

“Okay, I guess we’ll see you downstairs,” Hayley laughed, as she swung him up onto one slender hip.  “Take your time,” she said, winking innocently, as she headed toward the door.  “I can handle lunch.”

Klaus paused mid-task as the door clicked shut behind Hayley and the children.  He’d been reaching for the discarded ice pack when Hayley’s remark had halted him in his tracks.  He remained frozen, crouched, once again, beside Camille’s bed, mere inches from where she sat in nothing but a damp bath towel. 

In her bedroom. 

Behind a closed door.

He’d been diligently avoiding this exact situation for a week.  He needed to get out of here.  Now.

He took a deep breath to steel himself, but found that to be counterproductive, as all it did was fill his lungs with the sweet scent of her body, which was all too close and all too bare before him.  He thought that the smell of Camille’s skin would probably be intoxicating to him if he were just a man, mouth-wateringly irresistible if he were merely a vampire, wholly consuming if he bore the werewolf curse alone…but the combination of the three—the memories, emotions and experiences of a man, combined with the physicality of a hybrid—that unholy combination served to make her scent the single most overwhelmingly appealing aroma that his olfactory receptors had ever experienced.  He thought that he might actually be able to _feel_ his neurons firing in response to some secret pheromone that was unique to Camille alone.

He bit back a frustrated groan, but some strangled sound must have slipped free because Camille raised wide, startled eyes to his.  He feared that he was about to go back on a week’s worth of progress, and he was nearly powerless to stop himself when she looked at him like that. 

Her eyes were large, luminous, and unblinking, and he couldn’t bring himself to look away, even though he knew that he should.  He shouldn’t be thinking what he was thinking right now, shouldn’t be feeling what he was feeling, but it was building inside of him, snowballing into something bigger than him, bigger than them.

He missed her.

He fucking _missed_ her.

He, whose soul had never longed for the company of a singular other’s in a thousand years…

Something in her mirrored him, though, reflecting back something he both wanted and needed to see, something similar and opposite, familiar and foreign, all at the same time.

Cami swallowed, unable to look away from him.  The air had become suddenly thick.  She felt as though every molecule of breathable oxygen in the room had just bonded to hydrogen and transformed into water, leaving her feeling weightless and struggling to breathe.  He’d just ignored her for a week, and now, as a result of nothing more significant than ten seconds alone in each other’s presence, here they were again, locked in some sort of gravitational pull that had them orbiting the same central point, unable to move away from one another, yet not quite able to come together either.  It was equally frustrating, frightening…and arousing.

“Klaus,” Cami breathed, unsure.  She wanted this, but…

“Shh…” he whispered, his breathing unsteady, his muscles tense and singing with potential energy.  His entire body had just tightened in response to the sound of her voice whispering his name.  He wondered, fleetingly, what would happen if she screamed it…


	17. Promises, Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost to the end now, kiddos!

 

**Chapter 17:  Promises, Promises**

 

 

Rising from his crouched position, Klaus moved toward her like a predator stalking his prey.  Placing his palms flat on the bed, one on either side of her hips, he brought his face up close to hers.  His nostrils flared, drawing in even more of her sweet scent.  Slowly, his eyes never breaking contact with hers, he moved forward, dipping his head toward her, intent on tasting her. 

At the last second, his eyes flicked downward, hidden beneath hooded lids.

Cami sat transfixed, desire warring with trepidation inside her.  Her fingers itched to find their way into the lush waves of Klaus’s hair.  She was expecting his kiss, but when his head dipped at the last second and his lips latched onto the tender skin at the base of her throat, her lips parted of their own volition, and she let out a surprised breath.  She felt the scrape of his teeth and the gentle suction of his open mouth against her skin, and she knew that desire was winning the war.

Klaus felt Camille’s warm, shaky exhale against his neck, and he was powerless to do anything except seek out the origin of that moist heat.  Eyes closed, he found his way back to her mouth on instinct alone and sealed his lips over hers.  He took from her, fiercely, nipping and pulling at her lips before soothing them with sweet, gentle sips.

Cami’s hands, unable to remain immobile any longer, slipped into the soft curls at Klaus’s temples.  Her fingers pressed urgently into his scalp until their tips turned white under the pressure.  Slowly, she relaxed into the kiss, letting him do deliciously sensual things to her mouth.  She felt his tongue trace along the seam of her lips, seeking permission to come inside, and she opened for him, just as she’d known she would.  Just as she had so many times before…as she likely always would. 

 _Until he decides this is all a mistake and shuts you out again_ , her brain supplied, in warning. 

Her heart squeezed in response to the painful thought, even as a pleasant warmth began to spread low in her belly, spurred along by the expert way he held her and touched her body.

Cami felt her towel start to slip, the loose knot beginning to give way under the masterful skill of Klaus’s nimble fingers.

“Wait,” Cami murmured, pulling away, abruptly.  The wet pop of their lips separating, accompanied by the sounds of their harsh breaths, echoed through the otherwise quiet room.  “Wait, I can’t do this,” she whispered, apologetically, placing her hand on his chest, as if to hold him at bay. 

He looked at her with hooded eyes, full of desire and confusion, and licked his lips, hungrily.

She swallowed, thickly. 

She knew that if he wanted to he could overpower her in a second, though she knew he never would.  Her palm rested over his heart, and she flinched in response to the wild rhythm that thrummed beneath her fingertips.  She shouldn’t have let him kiss her, even though she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone in her life…more than she’d ever even dreamed possible before she’d come to know him.    She shouldn’t have let him…until they’d settled whatever this thing was between them.  “We can’t do this if you’re going to leave this room, and pretend like nothing happened,” she clarified.  “I can’t take the silent treatment anymore, Klaus.”  She shook her head, “I can’t.”

She looked him straight in the eyes and let him see the hurt she’d been pretending not to feel all week.

He blinked his eyes and cast them downward, letting his hands drop from the knot at the front of her towel onto the tops her thighs.  He sighed, defeated.  “I never meant to hurt you, Camille.  Point of fact, it is the _last_ thing I wanted.”

What _did_ he want?

She was scared to know...what he _wanted_ , what he _didn’t_ want, but it was now or never…she had to know what was going on in his mind. 

“What _do_ you want, Klaus?  Because I remember when what you wanted…was me.  I just…I guess I just don’t understand what changed.”  She squared her shoulders and stared at the top of his bowed head, refusing to look away, as she asked, softly, “Is it me?  Is it because…because I’m a mom now?  Because I’ve changed?”

His head jerked up, and he stared at her in shock.  She could always see right through him, read his mind…except when it came to her, it seemed.  How could she have misread the situation so profoundly?  She had to see that it was him, not her, that made it impossible for them to be together. 

“You think that I don’t _want_ you?  You think that you aren’t beautiful to me?”  He asked, breathing harshly, his voice rising with each word as it left his lips.  “In my eyes, you are the _most_ beautiful woman in the world.  And you _know_ you are important to me.” His voice was urgent, sincere.  “I’ve told you before…you’re my family.  But Camille, you know that if we were to pursue a life together…I _would_ hurt you.  I wouldn’t mean to, but I would.”  He looked down at her lap, at his hands, large and powerful against the slender outline of her thighs.  “And in doing so, I would destroy everything beautiful in my life, just as I’ve always done.”  He pictured his children, sleeping peacefully atop Camille in that hotel room, weeks ago.  “Only this time…I’ve so much more to lose.”

There was a sadness in his voice, but it also held anger, a bitter, self-loathing rage that crept into his tone, uninvited.  As he met her gaze once more, there was a pleading in his eyes, though, that pulled at her.  She ached for him, and her eyes stung, filling with hot tears, in response to his words.  Regardless, she had to tell him the truth.  Once and for all, she had to let him know how this constant push and pull was affecting her.

“You say you don’t want to hurt me, that you’ve never meant to…but this, Klaus… _this_ is you hurting me,” she accused, quietly, tears slipping down her cheeks.  “You---you come so close, you _pretend_ you want to be a family…you’re so open with the kids, but you don’t trust me to stand by you, so you deliberately hold yourself apart from me.”  She pressed both hands to her chest, directly over her bruised heart.  “That _hurts_.  And I can’t take it anymore.”  She gestured back and forth between them, weakly.  “I can’t do _this_ anymore,” she whispered, brokenly.

Klaus’s heart sank.  He’d known all along it would come to this, and now the hour was finally at hand.  He’d finally pushed her away, well and truly.  Of course he had…he’d known all along she’d leave, just as everyone else had. 

Besides, this is what he’d wanted, right?  To push her away? 

And yet something hot and raging was boiling up inside of him in response to her willingness to just give up on him, on them.  He jerked his hands away from her body and rose to his feet. 

“Oh, that’s just great, Camille,” he said, angrily, reaching one hand out toward her.  “Paint me as the bastard I’ve been since the day I was born.  See me just as everyone else does…a monster, unable to feel, incapable of wanting real things.  You say that it’s I who am holding back but the truth of the matter is--I see the fear in your eyes when you look at me, the uncertainty.  You are just _waiting_ for the moment I turn into a monster and destroy the life we’ve built.  You look at me sometimes like you think I don’t care, like losing all of this wouldn’t break my heart.  All the while, I’m _trying_ _so_ bloody hard to be the man you wish me to be.” 

He was livid, but his was a wrath borne of fear.  He felt Camille slipping away from him, and a coldness the likes of which he’d never experienced, began to creep inside of him, chilling him to his core.  Besides his children, she was the one person in the world whose opinion of him truly mattered.  “You, of all people, Camille,” he accused, coldly.  “I thought _you_ knew me better than that.”

Cami recoiled as though he’d struck her, and in that moment, something in her broke.

“YOU WON’T _LET_ ME KNOW YOU!” she cried, her voice shredded and raw.  “WHAT DO YOU _WANT_ FROM ME, KLAUS?” she begged, raising both hands toward him, palms up, pleading, her shoulders rising and falling in a helpless shrug.

Klaus stood staring at her, shocked and unmoving, and for once, he asked himself that very question, and waited for an honest answer to come to him. 

 _What does Niklaus Mikaelson, thousand-year-old Original Vampire, want from Camille O’Connell, human, psychologist, mother of his children?_  

He stood there in silence as a strange realization began to creep over him.

They say that you see yourself and your value through the eyes of those you love…that that’s how you define yourself.  He’d been defined for so long by Esther, by Mikael, even by his siblings, as a bastard—an indiscretion, a mistake…half-beast, half a man…a _half_ -sibling, even.  It was Camille who’d first seen him as a whole person…damaged, perhaps…but a person, just the same.

_Camille is perfect, and she cares for me; therefore, I must be…I must be..._

Camille was the one person in the world whose eyes Klaus had ever been able to see himself through and see a whole person—a man who was loyal and proud…haunted, but decent…flawed, but not irredeemable…not heartless, and not lacking basic human emotions. 

He needed that back.  He needed her to keep seeing him as that whole man--imperfect, but worth saving.  He needed the one person in his life who’d seen all of him, his _whole_ self…to love him despite it.

“I WANT _YOU_!” he roared without warning, surprising even himself with the outburst.  He raised his eyebrows, widening his eyes to keep the tears that had suddenly gathered there from falling. 

With those three words acting as the catalyst, the dam on his emotions finally broke, and it was as if the little Dutch boy had finally, reluctantly, removed his finger from the dam.

“I want you to _love_ me, the way I love you,” he confessed, his voice ragged and uncontrolled.  “And I want you to _trust_ me as I trust you, and I want you to _see me_ and still look at me the same way you did the night we made our son, and I know I have no right to ask it of you, and I know it’s surely asking too much, but that’s what I want!” he uttered, urgently.  “ _That’s_ what I want.”  After a thousand years of silence and mistrust and impenetrable self-reliance, all of his deepest, most hopeless desires had just poured out of his mouth and onto the hard, wood floor between them.  He bowed his head, expecting to see his heart there on the floorboards along with his dignity and his pride.  He’d just placed every emotion he’d spent a thousand years protecting on the ground at her feet for her to do with as she would.

 If she denied him now, it would end him. 

Without her, immortality was an albatross—something to be borne, not celebrated.  He’d finally admitted the truth to himself, and inadvertently, to her…if he were ever to experience happiness, true happiness, he needed her love.  He _needed_ it.  “That’s what I need,” he whispered, his voice harsh and desperate sounding.  “I need you, Camille.”

She felt her heart contract in response to the pain and self-doubt in his voice and then expand, swelling with joy, as the meaning of his words began to sink in. 

She rose, on unsteady feet, and moved toward him.

“Klaus,” she whispered, taking his face in both of her hands.  “You _have_ those things.”  She looked deeply into his eyes, willing him to look into hers, to search their depths and see and _feel_ the sincerity in her words.  “I _love_ you,” she said, insistently.  “And I _don’t_ fear you,” she said, vehemently, shaking her head.  “That’s just you projecting your own fears onto me--you’re so afraid of hurting me that you’re torturing yourself.  You’re pushing me away to keep me safe, but I don’t need protection…not from you.”  She looked into his tear-filled eyes and implored him to believe what she was saying.  “It’s true, you might hurt me, but never on purpose and never in a way that I won’t recover from,” she assured, reaching down and taking his hand, her eyes never leaving his.  “The truth is, I might hurt you, too.”  She shrugged, helplessly.  “We might hurt each other, because when you love someone, you’re _vulnerable_ to that person.  But I’m willing to risk it, Klaus, because I _do_ love you, and I _trust_ you…and, no, it’s not asking too much, and you have every right to ask for love.  My God, you are not this terrible monster that your family and the world and _you_ have led you to believe.  You are a _good_ man, Klaus.”

Tears spilled over his lower lashes though his eyes remained wide open, his expression unchanged.

“You are kind and loving and I am _so_ grateful that you lo--,” her voice broke, and she shook her head, struggling to go on.  “That you love me,” she was finally able to finish, in a near-whisper.  “And you have to believe me, Klaus, because, God help me, I need you, too.  And I’m trusting you not to let yourself get in the way of this, not to take this… _you_ , away from me.”  She raised up on the tips of her toes and pressed her forehead against his.  “I’ve loved you for so long, Klaus…you _just_ have to let me in,” she pleaded.

Somewhere in the midst of her speech he’d started to _hear_ her, to believe her.  Somehow, she’d gotten through to a part of him he’d thought was lost long ago.  She _really_ did love him…in the same way that he loved her.  And she trusted him…and he trusted her, completely—with his children, with his life, and with his heart.  He had loved her and trusted her for far longer than he’d admitted to himself, but now he _was_ admitting it…to himself…and to her. 

“Okay,” he rasped, hoarsely, awed by his own willingness to finally acknowledge the truth.

“Okay?” she whispered, pulling back and looking into his eyes once again, searching for any sign of hesitation.  She was almost too afraid to hope…

“Okay,” he nodded, smiling at her despite the tears that slid from his eyes and wet his lips.  “I love you, Camille…more than you will ever know, more than I can ever hope to convey to you in a thousand lifetimes.”  Reaching for her, he cradled her face in his hands, cupping her cheeks in his palms.  “But I swear to you, I will spend my entire existence trying to find ways to make you understand how important you are to me…how loved and cherished you are.”  His eyes darkened, his words took on an unparalleled urgency.  “No woman will ever be loved as well as you will be.”

There was undeniable sincerity in his words and also an undercurrent of heated promise.

She was crying openly now, but, against his warm palms, her cheeks were dimpled with a wide, happy smile.  “Promises, promises,” she teased, an attractive blush staining her cheeks. 

But very quickly, the playfulness faded away, and she asked, seriously, “Do you promise?”

Just as earnestly, he replied, “I promise…”  He paused, and then with every ounce of sincerity he possessed, he said, “Always and forever.”


	18. Say My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, kiddies…this is the part where you must decide if you are old enough to ride this ride. We are moving into an “M” rating for this chapter. If you feel the need to skip this moment in our fav duo’s lives, you should be able to pick up in the next chapter without missing anything too significant to the story. For those of you proceeding…I hope I did these two and this moment justice. This scene was written entirely to one song, set on repeat…so, if you’re into music, go listen to “Dust To Dust” by The Civil Wars. It was my muse. :) 
> 
> Only a couple of chapters to go now!

In the late afternoon sunlight, Camille’s body took on a golden glow, her rosy flesh appearing a burnt sienna where the angled light kissed and warmed her bare skin.  Klaus’s fingers trembled as they traced the flush that spread high across her delicate cheekbones.  She stood, facing him, in nothing but a simple, lavender bath sheet, her pale, blonde tresses drying in soft waves about her shoulders.  Her face, scrubbed free of make-up, was without even the slightest imperfection, and he looked on, mesmerized by the vision that stood before him.

To look upon her in this moment, in this context, was a privilege, he knew…one he’d waited a thousand years to experience.  He’d known many pleasures over the centuries, but perhaps none as sweet as this.  They’d had a similar moment once before, but that instant had been tainted with sadness, marred by doubt and the fear of being lost to one another for an indeterminate amount of time.  They’d been two people in a dark room, desperately trying to figure out how to say goodbye.  That brief, unexpected encounter had resulted in their son, and he would never cease to be awed by the magnitude of the connection he’d shared with her that night, but they had both been mired in varying degrees of grief and uncertainty then…it had been with them in that room, lurking in the shadows, mocking them with taunts of missed opportunities and accusations of wasted chances.

This time would be different. 

It was just the two of them here now, and nothing was standing between them anymore…

Tilting her head, Camille turned her face into Klaus’s touch, closing her eyes as his fingers uncoiled to cradle her cheek in his palm.  Turning, she placed a sweet kiss at the base of his thumb, leaving her lips pressed against his warm skin for the space of several heartbeats.

Her feet left bare, she stood several inches shorter than him, and he loved the way her beautiful eyes appeared impossibly larger and near-bottomless as they swept upward, seeking his.  Stepping forward, into her space, he cradled her face in both of his hands and tilted her head, gently, until her lips were perfectly aligned with his, and then, never moving his eyes away from hers, he slowly closed the last of the distance between them.

Sighing with a mix of pleasure and relief, Cami melted bonelessly against Klaus’s solid form, gripping his biceps, as his lips pressed against hers.  She opened herself to him immediately, and he wasted no time accepting her invitation.  His lips moved over hers, and she kissed him back, hungrily.  He tasted sweet and familiar and right as his tongue slid inside.  It brushed seductively against hers, and she exhaled, audibly, signaling her pleasure.

Spurred on by the sound of Camille’s gentle sighs, Klaus slid his hands down her body, his palms finding the dip in her lower back and tugging her forward, holding her smaller frame against his own, tightly, possessively.  He continued to ravage her mouth, his hunger for her growing exponentially with every sigh, every slick thrust of her tongue against his.

When she was dizzy with lack of sufficient oxygen, Cami, reluctantly, pulled away from the kiss, her heart beating erratically.  She saw the hesitation in Klaus’s eyes as he took in her swollen lips and pinkened skin.  She watched as he, unconsciously, raised a hand to his stubbled chin, scratching absently at the prickly growth he found there, no doubt pondering the damage he’d done to her sensitive flesh.  She smiled, reassuringly, as she drew in a few fortifying breaths, and then, slowly, her hands shaking slightly, she reached for him again.  Bravely, she slipped her fingers under the hem of his t-shirt, pressing her palms to his abdomen and sliding them around to his hips, luxuriating in the feel of his hot skin beneath her fingers. 

She slid her hands upward at a maddeningly slow pace, taking the cotton material with them.  Growing impatient, Klaus ripped the offending garment over his head in a single, smooth motion, leaving himself unclothed before her, save a worn pair of low-riding, black jeans.

Camille watched as his muscles rippled gloriously beneath skin turned golden by the slanting rays of a waning sun.  She dragged her eyes across his exposed skin, briefly meeting his gaze, before moving forward and pressing her lips against the smooth patch of skin, directly over his heart.  She felt his fingers slip into her hair, his large hand cradling the base of her skull, lovingly.  When she felt him press his open mouth against the tender skin of her neck, she whispered his name, involuntarily.

Camille’s breathy murmur whispering across his skin nearly had him ripping the flimsy towel from her body and tossing her onto the waiting bed.  Growling softly, he fisted his hand in her silky, blonde hair and tugged, gently, until her head tilted back.  He attacked her mouth with fervor then, tasting and sucking until she clung, tightly, to his shoulders for support.  The press of her body against his was maddening, and helplessly, he gave himself over to the moment. 

He began walking them, purposefully, toward the bed, until the backs of his legs bumped against the soft edge of the mattress.  He sank gracefully onto its surface, dragging Camille with him, keeping her close, never breaking their kiss.  His hands roamed the expanse of her back, slipping low to cup her perfect backside.  His hands kneaded the flesh he found there, and he tugged her forward, instinctively.

Cami’s entire body thrummed with anticipation.  She couldn’t think of anything, her mind so fully consumed by what Klaus was doing to her body.  She felt weak and dizzy, yet energized.  Her knees pressed into his hips, her body straddling his, and when he pulled her into him, she could feel the hard press of him through his jeans.  She gasped into their open-mouthed kiss, dragging in much-needed air.  She could feel her towel slipping, their current position straining the loose knot at her breast.  Just as she was debating between letting go of Klaus’s shoulders to secure it or letting it fall, she felt his warm hand, high on her inner thigh…moving, seeking.  Her fingers tightened, involuntarily, gripping his shoulders, reinforcing their hold on his upper body. 

He grinned, cockily, and she smiled back, blushing prettily, despite herself.

Damn the man.  He was sexy as hell, and he knew it.

She bit her lip.  She remembered this part of him…not a shy bone in his body. 

Maintaining eye contact, he shifted his thighs, moving them further apart, opening her to his seeking fingertips.  When they found their destination, her eyelids fluttered closed, her breath leaving her on a shaky exhale.  The warmth low in her belly flared to life and began to burn in earnest.

Klaus’s eyes were fixed on Camille.  She sat before him, looking tousled and loved, her skin flushed and backlit by the burnt orange sunlight streaming through the upstairs window.  Shafts of refracted light slanted through the pale waves of her hair, and he was suddenly, infinitely grateful for his heightened, vampiric senses.  The same sharp eyes that helped shape his paintings, took in the work of art he held in his arms.  His eyes moved over her closed lids, her parted lips, the clamorous flutter of her pulse near the base of her throat.  They slipped lower, noting the way the soft material of her towel rode impossibly low over the gentle swell of her breasts.  And all the while, his hands remained occupied with the joyful task of relearning the intimate workings of her body, discovering what made her breath hitch in her chest, what triggered her body’s frantic, unconscious movement, and, finally, what caused her to go rigid with pleasure and then blessedly still in his arms.  He watched it all unfold before him with the keen eyes of a painter.

If he was an artist, his hands the tools of his trade, then she was the masterpiece he wanted to paint every day of his life. 

Her, like this, again and again.

His desire for her was unquenchable, he knew, but, regardless, he was going to do his best to slake his thirst.  Moving his hand from between her thighs, he slid it gently to her hip, squeezing lightly, before moving upward along her ribs, tracing the delicate ridges until they gave way to the soft underside of her breast.  Sliding his other hand along her torso as well, he moved both of them in tandem, gently covering her breasts with his palms.  The movement finally loosed the knot on her towel and it fell away completely, leaving her fully exposed to him.

Cami felt the chill in the air as the knot in her towel finally gave way and the soft, lavender cotton slipped from her body.  She was still quivering from the unbelievable feelings Klaus had managed to elicit from her.  No one had ever played the instrument that was her body with such ease…it was as if he’d known the chord that resonated within the deepest part of her, and he’d struck it effortlessly, plucking it gently, repeatedly, causing her entire body to vibrate at its frequency...until it shattered.

She wanted to make him feel like that, too.

She could see the evidence of his desire for her straining against the front of his jeans, and she ran her hand along the taut denim, smiling to herself in satisfaction when she heard his breath falter.  She leaned forward, kissing the underside of his chin, as she sank her fingers just inside the waistband of his jeans.  Pressing tiny kisses along the length of his jaw, she continued her work, releasing the button on his faded denims.

 _Pop_.  The sound was loud in the relatively quiet room, accompanied only by their harsh breathing and the gentle whisper of fabric shifting against fabric.

The audible drag of his zipper releasing sent a shiver up her spine.

Klaus rubbed his hands up and down the length of her back, creating friction.  “Are you cold?” he asked, his brow creasing.

She smiled at his concerned expression and shook her head, silently. 

Looking down at her naked form, he couldn’t help but murmur, “You are prefect, Camille.”

She smiled, widely, at that.  Feeling emboldened, she slid off of his lap and stood, completely naked, before him.  However, before he could respond to her bold move, she was reaching for his hands, tugging him to his feet as well.  When he was standing, she stepped forward, and raised her lips to his.

He crushed her to him, pressing her naked torso against his.  Her breasts dragged against his chest and he could feel their firm tips leaving indelible marks on his fevered skin.  He took the kiss she offered, and when he felt her hands slip from his lower back down below the waistband of his jeans, he thrust his tongue inside her mouth and growled, hungrily.

Cami slipped her hands downward and gripped the firm globes of muscular flesh in her hands.  She grinned, reveling in the fact that he was completely bare beneath his jeans.  She pulled Klaus toward her, causing him to press his hardness into her soft belly, and she listened as he groaned in pleasure.  Tearing herself away from their searing kiss, she slid her hands down along his thighs, divesting him of his jeans as she went.  As she watched, Klaus toed off his shoes, stepped quickly out of his jeans, and tugged off his socks, leaving the discarded items strewn in a haphazard pile on the floor.  His movements were graceful, like that of a big cat, quick and agile.  When he stood before her, this time as naked as she was, her entire body clenched in response.

He watched her irises darken with desire, and seeing that look in her eyes sent him over the edge.  Klaus pounced, like the giant cat she’d likened him to moments before.  He moved so quickly, she never felt her feet leave the floor, just her back hitting the mattress.  Before her body could still against the springy surface, he was on her, attacking her with unparalleled, sensual intensity.

His hands were sliding along her back, threading through her hair, tugging at her hips, gripping her forearms, her wrists, her thighs.  She could barely catch her breath, but the pleasure was so intense she didn’t care.  His mouth was everywhere, licking and sucking…her neck, her breasts…lower.  She thought she might hyperventilate, but then she remembered that she’d had a purpose when she started this.  She wanted to make him feel like he’d made her feel.  Reaching between them, she wrapped her hand around the length of him, stilling his movements immediately.  She listened to his ragged breaths as she moved her hand up and down, loving the way he responded immediately to the slightest change of pressure in her grip.  Letting go and moving to one side, she tugged on his shoulder until he was sitting up in the center of the bed, then she moved over him, straddling his thighs.  When they were face to face once again, she took him in her hand and placed him against the entrance to her body.

She loved him, and she wanted him to feel loved…and wanted.  She wanted to give him pleasure…and goodness--which he’d had so little of in his life up to this point.  Looking straight into his eyes, Cami lowered herself onto him, willing him not to look away as he slid inside of her.

Being inside Camille was possibly the most intense experience of his life.  The pleasure was so powerful it was nearly excruciating in its intensity.  When she shifted her hips and he sank impossibly deeper, he couldn’t stop himself from moving.  She whimpered and rocked against him in response, and he thrust into her, gripping her hips and tugging her down onto him, closing the last of the distance between them.

She felt so full.  Her body was stretched and humming with pleasure, and she felt more connected to Klaus than she’d ever felt to another person.  It was as if their chests were open and his heart was merged with hers, every bit as connected as the rest of their bodies were, in this moment.  She watched her emotions reflect back at her from the depths of his eyes…the desire, the sense of connection. 

“I love you,” she whispered, fiercely.  Her eyes shone happily above her flushed cheeks.

Klaus stared into the swirl of intense emotions that seemed to fill Camille’s irises with vibrant color.  In the past, he’d thought he knew what being in love meant…but he’d merely been obsessed with Tatia, infatuated with Aurora, and though he had truly loved Caroline, he had not been in love with her, either.  It was Camille who’d taught him what truly being in love with someone meant.  He knew Camille.  When he looked into her eyes, he _knew_ her, and she knew him.  When she looked into his eyes and he allowed her to see all of him, the real him, the way he’d never allowed another person to see him and know him…she loved him.  She was _in_ _love_ with him, too.

He held her tightly and rolled them on the bed until he was on top of her, pressing her firmly into the mattress.  “I love you, more,” he growled, intensely, pushing into her once more, causing her to moan and arch her back, involuntarily.  He drove into her at an unrelenting pace, pushing them both higher and higher.

His body moving inside hers was producing a need in her so intense that she thought she might pass out if it didn’t abate soon.  She was flushed and dizzy and her body was straining.  She was so close, so incredibly close…

“KLAUS!” she screamed, her body going rigid with pleasure.

He felt her body trembling and gripping, rippling, and he pushed himself further, straining to end the sweet torment he was feeling.  He thrust into her twice more, deeper still…as deep as he could go, and he felt the skin on the back of his scalp prickle in anticipation of his own release.  He felt her body clamp down on his, as if to hold him there, deep inside her, forever. 

“CAMILLE!” he called out, stilling inside her, as the storm rolled over them both.

As Cami began to come back to herself, she recognized the comforting presence of his body on top of hers.  His weight was deliciously heavy, though she knew they wouldn’t be able to stay this way for long without her body protesting from lack of oxygen.  For the time being though, she ran her hands along the length of his naked back, reveling in the feeling of his body still nestled deep inside hers.

She took another too-shallow breath.

Klaus sighed, contentedly.  He knew he should move before he smothered Camille, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling more relaxed in his entire, previously-miserable life, than he did right now.  He thought back to moments before, when he’d caused her to scream his name in ecstasy, and he smiled…

Because she’d made him scream hers, too.

 


	19. Home Is Where The Heart Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, guys...this is it! Only one more part after this one! I hope you've all enjoyed the ride, and I hope I've done these characters justice. I've been writing this story for nearly a year...it will be odd to let it go. Thank you so, so, so much for each and every review, follow, and favorite-they've meant the world to me!

**Chapter 19:  Home Is Where The Heart Is**

 

 

“I just don’t want to over-stay my welcome,” Hayley was saying, as they all relaxed around the formal dining table after enjoying a leisurely meal together.  Klaus and Elijah held sentinel positions at either end of the wooden behemoth, whilst Rebekah and Freya sat opposite Hayley and Cami.  To Hayley’s immediate right, between she and Cami, stood a chair with an empty booster seat.  A second identical one sat vacant between Cami and Klaus.  Having finished their dinner already, the youngest Mikaelsons had grown tired of adult conversation and scampered off to play in the family room. 

“Nonsense,” Elijah argued from across the table, his voice gentle but firm.  “You are always welcome here.  Just as you’ve always been.”

Hayley smiled gratefully, but continued, “I know that, I do…but the last time I stayed here there were a few less people.  Rebekah and Freya are both here fulltime now, and Cami and Nik.  I’m just saying, I understand if this place has reached maximum capacity.  You guys have been great the past few weeks, but I need to figure out what I’m going to do in the long run.”

“Forgive me for stating the obvious,” Rebekah chimed in, not sounding the least bit apologetic.  “But I think it best we _all_ remain under one roof, wouldn’t you agree?” she asked, eyeing the open doorway, through which Hope and Nik were clearly visible to everyone at the table.  Sipping casually from her wine glass, she added, nonchalantly, “Besides, I rather like the current arrangements.”

Klaus thought that last bit probably had more to do with the inordinate amount of time that Marcellus had been spending in his sister’s company, than anything else.  Now that Rebekah was home for good, his adopted-son-turned-right-hand-man seemed poised to become something more akin to a brother-in-law to him.  Only time would tell, and if he were being honest with himself, nothing would make him happier.  Marcellus was tied to New Orleans, and Rebekah was tied to this family, bonds which served to keep them both nearby.  If they were also tied to each other, better still, as they’d be doubly likely to remain here, with the family, with him.  Stripped of his fear of abandonment, Klaus had no real reason to wish for their continued estrangement, and truth be told, if they chose to one day leave him, sad though he may be, he would let them go.  Having, at last, tasted true happiness, he could not withhold from those he loved the chance for a happy life.

His eyes landed on Camille.

He watched, bemused, as she picked absently at her dinner roll.  He studied her as she sat, silently, diligently psychoanalyzing the family’s dinner conversation, no doubt. 

Camille listened more than she talked--a job hazard, she’d informed him, ages ago--and he’d learned that, with her, sometimes he needed to prod a little deeper, push her to say something that even she didn’t realize she needed to say.  She was his loyal therapist, his devoted listener, but in the weeks since they’d breached each other’s emotional walls, he had become her intimate as well.  She helped him make sense of his complicated history and listened as he reasoned through his occasional overreactions, and he, in turn, had become her sounding board, listening as she listed her worries and her perceived short-comings, reassuring her that said short-comings were not nearly as egregious nor numerous as she believed.  Aside from being a father, being Camille’s confidante was, perhaps, the role in his life in which he took the most pride.  He was forever in awe of her beautiful mind, and he never grew tired of seeing the world through her eyes. 

He would be sure to get her interpretation of tonight’s conversation later, when they were alone.

“I do, too…” Hayley agreed with Rebekah’s assessment of their current living arrangements, though there was a small amount of hesitation in her voice.  The truth was, she hated being on the opposite side of the house as Hope, but getting her own place would obviously not solve that particular problem, since then she would only see her child, at best, half the amount of time that she did now.  That, and it would traumatize Hope.  It had become apparent to her in the past few weeks that picking up where she’d left off with her daughter was not only impossible, it wasn’t even what was best for the child.  Hope adored Cami, and as much as it broke Hayley’s heart sometimes to see it, that bond was undeniable.  Slowly, though, she and Hope were rebuilding something of their own, and thankfully, Cami was hanging back and allowing for that to happen. 

The two of them had been navigating this co-mothering thing like two soldiers negotiating a field full of landmines.  They moved incredibly slowly, taking turns going first and falling back, and, so far, no one had lost any limbs.  The thing they both realized was that, as they traversed this uncertain terrain, their daughter was wholly dependent on them to keep her safe.  She was there every step of the way, riding on their shoulders, until they reached solid ground.  The weight of that responsibility allowed them both to focus on where they were going rather than on the challenges of where they happened to be right now.

Hayley glanced into the family room, her eyes landing on Hope, who was busy teaching her little brother how to properly assemble one of her wooden puzzles.  She clapped her hands, smiling proudly, when he was able to fit the last piece, successfully, into place.

Hayley smiled in response to her daughter’s obvious love for her brother.  She was grateful for their closeness.  Cami had given Hope something that Hayley would never be able to give her, something even Hayley herself had never had—a sibling—a Mikaelson sibling, at that. 

Hayley could never take Hope away from her home, her family, all that was familiar to her…it just wasn’t in her.  She couldn’t do that to Hope, and looking around the table, she realized, she couldn’t do that to any of the people sitting before her.  She loved them, and they all loved her daughter.  Sometimes, she thought they might even love her…

Her eyes flicked to Elijah. 

That was a whole complicated can of worms that she wasn’t going to open today…or anytime soon, for that matter.  Too little time had passed since losing Jack, but she knew that Elijah was a patient man, and they still had many lifetimes ahead of them.  So, perhaps one day…

Klaus eyed Hayley, watching her as she gazed at his older brother.  He was an astute man, and it had not escaped his attention these past weeks that she missed the closeness she’d once shared with Elijah and also with Hope.  He knew it bothered her to feel separated from her child, both emotionally and physically.  Given her past, he understood how important family bonds were to her.  

Lately, he’d been working, tirelessly, on adopting a more empathetic attitude.  Camille had been helping him to untangle the knotted psychology that existed within this family.  Late at night, in his bed, the two of them would share whispered conversations, theorizing ways to ease the transition of Hayley’s return, proposing strategies that might help keep their family intact.  It sounded quite clandestine, but in truth, it was just two people who loved each other, quietly seeking answers to things that were, in the end, beyond their control. Perhaps that was the most obvious change he’d noted in himself since giving himself over to this thing with Camille—his acceptance that he could not control the outcome of _everything_ , that it simply was not within his power.  Oh, he would still try—it wasn’t in him not to—but when he became overwhelmed by the things over which he had no control, he would simply lose himself in her.  In hushed tones, they would ruminate on the day, ponder things to come, until, inevitably, he would grow frustrated with the uncertainty of it all and willingly allow himself to be distracted by the press of her body against his.  Eventually, their quiet words would fade into sighs. 

In light of these new personal revelations, he knew that he owed Hayley a great debt for costing her precious time with their daughter, but Camille had helped him see that the situation wasn’t entirely his fault.  She had also helped him to see that he could still seek forgiveness and absolution for the part that he _was_ responsible for. 

Klaus reached down and laced his fingers through Cami’s, resting their joined hands atop his thigh.

“You can move into Camille’s room,” he offered, gesturing vaguely toward the rooms overhead.  “As I’m quite certain that she won’t be in need of it any longer.”  He smiled, charmingly, in Cami’s direction.  “You don’t mind giving up your old room, do you, love?”

Cami blushed and chuffed out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle.

“Oh, please,” Rebekah scoffed, playfully.  “You can hardly call it _her_ room at this point.  We all know she’s been sleeping in your bed much longer than she ever slept in that one.”  She winked, good-naturedly, at Cami.

Freya nodded her agreement and shrugged apologetically in Klaus and Cami’s general direction.  “It’s true,” she laughed, her eyes crinkling in amusement.

Elijah smiled widely at his younger brother from the opposite end of the table, offering sagely, “That solution _would_ solidify the current sleeping arrangements, which have proven most beneficial to us all.”  If Hayley moved into Cami’s old room, then Cami would be relegated to Klaus’s room, permanently, which everyone agreed made Klaus much easier to get along with.  Camille had calmed something previously unsettled in his brother.  It was a welcome change, and it quieted something in Elijah’s own soul to see his younger brother so at peace.

Klaus’s lips slid into a lop-sided grin, and he glanced down at his lap, where his fingers remained interlaced with Cami’s.  He nodded his head, silently admitting to what they were all alluding to.  He’d been more relaxed these past few weeks, less angry and paranoid than his siblings had ever seen him…downright docile at times, and he knew they all owed this dramatic change in him to one person. 

He squeezed Cami’s hand in his and flicked his eyes to the side to meet her gaze.

Cami rolled her eyes and grinned, charmed by the lot of them, despite herself.  In truth, she hadn’t slept in her old room in weeks.  Her clothes had slowly begun to migrate from her own closet into Klaus’s.  Her hair brush sat atop his bureau, a few of her hair ties scattered across its gleaming surface.  In his bathroom, her toothbrush rested next to his, and her shampoo and conditioner stood open on the floor of his walk-in shower. 

The room on the other side of the nursery hadn’t felt like hers in quite some time.

“As it happens…I _don’t_ mind,” she replied, smiling good-naturedly at the family’s gentle ribbing.  It was a happy change to be sitting together at this table as a family, _not_ discussing imminent doom.  So, if being the object of everyone’s amusement was the price she paid for this moment, so be it.

“It’s settled, then,” Klaus declared, turning his eyes back to Hayley.  “Camille and I will move the rest of her things into our room tomorrow, and Hayley will move into the room on the other side of the nursery.”  He waited for Hayley to nod her approval, before raising his glass in a toast.  “Welcome home, Little Wolf,” he said, smiling. 

As he drained the remaining wine from his glass, his eyes met those of his brother, and a silent message seemed to pass between them.  Klaus tilted his head in Elijah’s direction, the barest hint of a smile touching his lips. 

_There she is, Brother.  Don’t muck it up._

Elijah raised his glass to Klaus, bowing his head in return.  He took a deep breath and drained his own glass.

_Message received._

God, help him.

~-~

Hours later, in the darkest part of the night, Klaus pressed his lips against the curve of Cami’s bare shoulder.  She smiled sleepily and resisted the urge to turn in his arms and press her lips to his.  She wanted to, but she was so content, nestled against him, her back pressed fully against his front, his hand inside her silky pajama top, drawing gentle patterns across the warm skin of her abdomen. 

She sighed. 

They’d discovered soon after spending their first full night together, that sleeping in the nude when small children were apt to enter your room at any given moment was rather impractical.  Soon after that, however, they’d discovered that when Klaus lent her the top of his silk pajamas, sleeping in clothes wasn’t so bad.  Reaching behind her, she slid her hand along Klaus’s hip, reveling at how she could feel his body heat right through the gossamer material.  There was a glowing warmth in her belly anytime he was near, which required only the minutest of fanning for it to flare to life, but this was nice, too.  In moments like this, it felt as if only the two of them existed in the world.  She thought of all the times she’d thought they might never be, and she was grateful for all that they were now.  It was still new, but she couldn’t imagine growing tired of it, not in a hundred years.

More telling, perhaps, was the fact that he could not fathom growing tired of it either.

Camille had become everything to him in such a relatively short amount of time.  When he looked back on his life now, he recognized that she’d been here for only the briefest portion of his thousand-plus years on this earth, and yet…it was as if his life hadn’t truly begun until now, until this.  She and Hope, or at least his knowledge of Hope’s existence, had come into his life at precisely the same time…and prior to their arrival, life seemed…less.  Less real, less worthwhile.  Just _less_.  Now they were here, in his family home, in the city that he loved, surrounded by loved ones, and he and Camille had a son, something he never thought possible.  Life was so perfect; it sometimes left him feeling afraid, as though he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  He supposed an old, deep-rooted part of him feared that happiness like this could not be sustained, and he realized that it might take him years to be able to accept such happiness at face value.  In his more unreasonable moments, Camille was there to talk him down, to remind him that she was here, and that she would not leave him, no matter what challenges lay before them.  The funny thing, the thing that he still could not entirely wrap his mind around…was that he believed her.

He pressed his palm against the softness of her abdomen and thought about the future.


	20. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, my lovelies... Thank you so very much to those of you who've read from the beginning to the end, taking this journey with me (and Klaus and Cami and Hope and Nik). I leave you with this...

**Epilogue**

“Did you know that Nik called Hayley _Mom_ this morning?  _Mom_ ,” Cami huffed, indignantly, flopping herself down on their bed next to him, still fully clothed.

“Well, in his defense, our family is quite untraditional,” Klaus pointed out, diplomatically, as he ran his hand up her thigh and gave her hip a gentle squeeze.

Cami gave him a look.

_Thank you, Captain Obvious_.

“Darling, Hope _does_ call Hayley _Mom_ …it’s understandable that Nik would still be a bit confused by it all,” he soothed.  “You’re his mother, with regard to that, I assure you, he is _not_ uncertain, nor confused.  To him they’re merely names at this point... _Daddy_ , _Aunty_ _Beks_ , _Aunty_ _Freya_ , _Uncle_ _Elijah_ …and your name is _Mama_ , and so, in his mind, Hayley’s could be _Mom_.  It doesn’t change your role in his life.”  He pressed his lips to hers, briefly, before pulling away to add, “You are still the single most important person in his life, I assure you.”

Cami hoped she’d only imagined the tiny hint of wistfulness in his voice at that last part. 

She sighed.  “He loves you, you know?  Second only to me…and not by much.”  She smiled, comfortingly, and placed her hand on top of his, where it rested possessively atop her hip bone.  “And I know a _name_ shouldn’t bother me, but…I already share Hope, and you know how difficult that was for me.  Forgive me for not wanting to share my son, too.”  She sighed, forcing air through her nose, grumpily.  “ _Mama_.  _Mom_.  If our son starts calling anyone else _Mommy_ , I’m out, Klaus, I swear to God.”

He chuckled and pressed his lips to her forehead, indulgently.

She swatted him away, half-heartedly, pulling back and pointing a finger at him.

“I’m serious!  I mean, what are we?  Sister Wives?” Cami asked him, sounding thoroughly disgusted.

“While that _is_ an intriguing thought…” Klaus began.

She gave him another look, and he tucked his chin in thought.

“I’d liken us more to a Siamese dynasty,” he opined.  “Large, powerful, and thousands of years in the making…”

“So, now I’m a concubine?  Great…even better,” Cami rolled her eyes, sarcastically.

“You don’t see the similarities?” he asked, grinning innocently.

“No, Chow Yun-Fat, I don’t,” she responded, firmly, the slightest hint of laughter creeping into her tone.  “I’m not a British schoolmarm summoned here to teach your legion of royal children.  I’m the mother of your son, whom I might point out is one of only _two_ children you’ve fathered…about fifty shy of Siamese dynasty standards, I believe,” she pointed out, slightly amused and only mildly annoyed.

“You know, come to think of it, you’re probably right.  Anyway, Anna was _much_ more agreeable than you are,” he smirked, knowing he’d surprise her with his rare morsel of pop culture knowledge. 

She looked at him, intently.  He’d never seen _The Wizard of Oz_ , but he knew _The King and I_?  Well, technically, she supposed she’d referenced _Anna and The King_ , but still.  Interesting.  After all this time, she was still learning something new about him every day.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Klaus.  I guess our family is nothing like Old Siam after all,” she sighed, with a wistfulness that was clearly facetious in nature. 

“Perhaps not…fifty children _does_ seem a bit excessive, doesn’t it?  Even for the King of Siam.”

She widened her eyes exaggeratedly and hummed a near-silent agreement. 

“I suppose, however, we could attempt to expand our dynasty, just a bit…” he suggested, keeping his voice purposefully casual.

_What?_

“What?” Cami asked, sitting up, abruptly, her heart screeching to a halt before sputtering to life once again and pounding in double-time.  She searched his face and found it to be full of sincere curiosity.

“Don’t you ever think about it?” he asked, his face uncharacteristically guileless.  “I mean…we did it once before,” he shrugged.  “Mightn’t we then be able do it again?”  His gaze was intense, unwavering, but also full of uncertainty.

“I…I don’t know, Klaus.”  She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, rocked by the sudden serious turn in their conversation.  “I guess I never _let_ myself think about it,” she confessed, quietly. 

She pictured it now, though…a little girl with her eyes and Klaus’s smile.  Or another son, a baby boy to fill her arms now that Nik was getting too big to want to be held.  Hope and Nik would be thrilled, and she…  She pictured herself pregnant again, this time with Klaus there by her side.  She imagined him hearing their child’s heartbeat for the first time.  She imagined his hands on her swollen belly.  She imagined him helping her stand when she became large and awkward, and she chuffed out a small laugh.  “You don’t know what you’re wishing for,” she teased, her voice the slightest bit unsteady.

He smiled, tenderly, seeming to follow her train of thought, before his eyes grew serious once again.  “I do, though, Camille,” he said, softly.  “And I do wish for it…” he confided, whisper-soft.

Her eyes widened slightly, dampening involuntarily. 

He was serious.

“Klaus,” she whispered, apologetically, shaking her head.

He swallowed, his own eyes bright, and looked heavenward.

“It’s alright, love,” he said, turning away, quickly.  “It was just a thought.  I’m perfectly happy with the family we have.  I oughtn’t be so--” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Klaus,” she cut him off, midsentence, taking one of his hands in both of hers.  “I just don’t…what if I can’t?” 

And there it was. 

The reason she’d never dared to think about it, herself.  What if they _couldn’t_ have another baby?

He turned quickly to face her.

Her eyes were wide, solemn.  Concerned. 

“I mean…it was such a fluke that it even happened the first time.  Maybe I won’t be able to…” she looked at him, imploringly, willing him to understand her apprehension at getting his hopes up.  Or her own, for that matter. 

“Camille,” he whispered, chidingly, leaning forward and cupping her face with his free hand before brushing his lips lightly across hers.  “Maybe _we_ ,” he stressed the word, relieving her of the sole responsibility of bringing future life into their family.  “Won’t be able to do it again,” he acknowledged, reluctantly.  “But maybe we _will_ ,” he whispered, encouragingly.  He looked directly into her eyes, allowing her access to every emotion swirling in the depths of his own—all of the fear, the hope, the love…holding nothing back from her.  “Either way, we won’t know unless we try, right?”  He grinned, devilishly.  “And, if memory serves, you and I _try_ pretty damn brilliantly,” he smirked, arrogantly.

“Well, there is that,” she agreed, smiling, flirtatiously. 

As she smiled back at him, her heart felt light and content.  In this moment, she truly believed that, for them, anything was possible.

“And we should try sooner rather than later because I don’t want to put off what we talked about any longer than necessary,” he added, his eyes growing serious once again.

She nodded, soberly.  Recently, they had been discussing the possibility of him turning her.  The discussion had come up more and more frequently as of late, and a few days ago, she had finally agreed.  As terrified as she was about the transition, she was more terrified of growing old, dying, and leaving this world, without him.  The prospect of outliving her children terrified her, but in the end, they would always have Klaus’s blood coursing through their veins—though they were not vampires, if either of them were to die, they _would_ turn….if they chose to do so.  In the meantime, her transition would enable her to more effectively protect them, and it also guaranteed her safety against a myriad of human frailties that could, at this point in time, end her life as easily as anyone else’s.  Deciding to turn was a terrifying decision, and their plan wasn’t without flaws, but, in the end, what parental decision ever was?  Their lives were complicated and, therefore, so would their options and choices always be.

“So, what do you say, my brave bartender?” he asked, brushing his knuckles tenderly along her jaw and sweeping her long, blonde hair back off of her shoulder.  “The little ones are down for the night.  We’ve a house _full_ of willing babysitters.  Care to get out of here and have a drink with this hundred dollar guy of yours?”

Her heart squeezed, and her eyes filled in response to his rare burst of sentimentality.

“I think I might just take you up on that,” Cami smiled, happily, into his beautiful blue-green eyes.  “And as luck would have it…I know just the place.”

“Do you, now?” he murmured, his face close to hers, his eyes full of love and happiness, emotions she tried to fill him with on a daily basis. 

“Mmm hmm…supposedly, there’s no magic there, but there’s this little room in the back where--” her words were cut off by the press of his lips against hers.  She smiled, laughing against his lips until he released her and stood, pulling her to her feet.  She watched, silently, as he tapped a quick message into his phone, no doubt alerting someone of their last minute plans.  Then she followed him willing as he tugged her through the open balcony door, the two of them snickering, quietly, like teenagers out after curfew.  Once outside, he crouched down in front of her and gripped the backs of her thighs, hefting her slight weight onto his back until he was holding her piggy-back style.  She giggled into his shoulder until she was gasping for breath, and she could feel him doing the same, his laughter having gone near silent in its intensity. 

She didn’t know what their future would hold, if they would have more children or not, if the ones they already had would choose an immortal existence or not, if a new threat to the Mikaelson family--to her family--would show up tomorrow…or a century from now…or never.  The truth was, there was a lot about their future that she didn’t know, but she _did_ know that whatever direction their lives went in, Klaus would be with her at every turn, and she would never leave his side.

Pressing herself against his back, she held on tightly and let him lead her out into the night. 

~-~

End—Where Magic Is Void


End file.
